Losing Control
by lauren1023
Summary: Now that the BSC has disbanded, the girls have gone their separate ways. But no one can prepare each of them for the fall...
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I don't own the BSC (that's all Ann M. Martin).

Losing Control

Prologue

"This meeting of the BSC is officially called to order!" Kristy Thomas called out as the clock switched from 5:29 to 5:30. She adjusted her official vision and placed a pencil behind her ear, ready for the day's meeting. She was sure that she would come up with a bunch of great ideas as the meeting went on.

Though she was just beginning her sophomore year of high school, she was still as enthusiastic as ever about the BSC. Though high school was harder than she had anticipated, she still had a good balance of homework, babysitting, and coaching the Krushers. She couldn't imagine her life working in any other way.

The rest of the Babysitter's Club didn't feel quite the same way. Mary Anne Spier dutifully opened her notebook and couldn't believe how few jobs that they had booked for the upcoming weeks. Her Friday night was still open, which never happened. She guessed that she could stop by Logan's game.

Claudia Kishi didn't even try to seem interested in the meeting. The only reason the meeting was still held at her house was because she had her own number; the truth, in fact, was that Claudia could barely tolerate most of the members of the BSC, especially Kristy, Mary Anne, Mallory, and Jessi. She couldn't wait to get out of high school and get a place of her own – at least that would break up the club.

In the past two years, a lot of changes had been made. After fluctuating back and forth from two coasts, Dawn decided to permanently live in Stoneybrook. However, instead of taking her old position of alternate officer back, she was promoted to treasurer. Dawn's move happened just as Stacey McGill decided to permanently move to New York to be closer to her dad. Even though she was no longer an official member, she often took the train in on weekends and picked up extra jobs for extra cash. After all, being that close to Bloomingdale's all the time was putting Stacey in some severe credit card debt.

Jessi Ramsey and Mallory Pike were both absent from the meeting; Jessi had branched out into modern dance and had extra practices, and Mallory was finally getting her braces off. The age difference between the BSC never seemed to matter much in middle school, but now the group was split between two locations. While Jessi and Mallory still occasionally pretended that they were horses, the rest of the BSC considered themselves much more dibble than that.

5:35

As Claudia fidgeted with her dark braid, she thought about the possible outfits that she might wear the next day. Possibly a long fisherman's vest with leggings, and maybe she could wear lures in her ears? But would that be painful? She decided to ask Janine that night but figured she would probably do it anyway for the sake of fashion. After all, she had to keep up her label of being sophisticated.

5:38

Kristy was silently willing the phone to ring. Though she had to keep telling herself that the Club often had "off" days, she couldn't believe that they only had two jobs booked for the weekend. She'd tried to branch out the business a few times over the years (once even suggesting that the BSC could do housekeeping and pet sitting), but they'd never been in this big of a slump. Plus, she couldn't even account for two of her members. This was getting ridiculous. She used to be so in control….

5:46

Dawn was silently counting down the minutes in her head. She couldn't wait to get home to call her best friend, Sunny Winslow, back in California. She already was regretting moving back to Stoneybrook, especially when she was missing so much out in California. Her friend Ducky had finally come out to his friends and family, and Dawn wasn't even around to support him during the time. She slowly calculated how much a plane ticket for the weekend would cost and the realized it was impossible – she had dues to pay. Maybe she could transfer at the semester.

5:56

Kristy sighed audibly and decided that they could end a bit early. Since it was Claudia's room, she could answer the phone if a call came in. Claudia rolled her eyes and stuffed a Mallomar in her mouth, which immediately made Kristy defensive.

"Claud, we have a business to run. And you're the Vice President!"

"The only reason I'm Vice President is because I have a phone line," Claudia mumbled, mouth still full of chocolate and marshmallow.

"This is ridiculous - I'm not discussing club politics with you. Can't you just pick up the phone and answer it if it rings?"

"Sure, but it's not like the phone is ringing off the hook with jobs. We've barely booked anything in weeks. And if you haven't noticed, no one's excited to be here."

Kristy panned the room, where no one would catch her eye. "Mary Anne? Dawn? Is that true? No one is committed to the BSC anymore?"

Still looking down, Mary Anne replied softly, "Well, Kristy, it is difficult with high school and all. And we never get jobs…and we can never have any other after-school activities because we're here all the time?"

"So this is how all of you really feel! That's it, I'm done. This meeting of the BSC is officially over…for good."

And with that, Kristy stormed out the door. Claudia almost laughed as she watched the clock tick from 5:59 to 6:00.

Kristy let herself into her house as fast as she could. She didn't want anyone to see her cry, which she rarely did. In fact, the last time she could remember crying was when her dog Louie died. She locked herself into her private bathroom and cried so hard that she dry heaved. When she finally caught her breath, she looked at the one thing that could finally make her feel better.

The razor in the soap dish was a lot girlier than anything Kristy would usually like. Still, she found the pink plastic handle comforting as she grasped it in her hand. She rolled up the sleeves on her turtleneck and picked a spot she hadn't yet marked. Immediately, her head cleared and she felt relieved. At least her pain was something she could control.


	2. Chapter 2

The next morning, Kristy awoke with a pounding headache. She had fallen asleep in her clothes from last night, and she could already see a light crusting of blood on her sleeves that she hadn't managed to bandage up the night before. She sighed and went to her closet, quickly tightening the ace bandage that she had become so accustomed to.

Downstairs, Watson was flipping pancakes and scrambling eggs, all the while putting out plates for Sam and David Michael. When Kristy finally entered the kitchen, he barely looked in her direction as he spooned some food onto her plate. Nor did he notice as she pushed the food around in silence or swallowed a few tabs of Tylenol before grabbing her bag and heading out the door. In her house these days, Kristy could usually get through a day saying a few words at best.

As she walked to her bus, her cell phone rang accusingly. Kristy had refused to pick up any calls from Mary Anne or Claudia, and she wasn't even sure if Jessi or Mallory knew that the BSC had disbanded. Not that she was going to be the one to call them. Since Claudia made up her mind, she could make the calls. After all, she was the one with the phone in her room.

"Kristy!" Shannon Kilbourne called, jogging to catch up with her. "I've been calling you for the past five minutes!" As she ran, her long blonde hair streamed perfectly behind her, giving Kristy a slight twinge of jealousy.

It was always a misconception of the BSC members that Kristy didn't care about her appearance. Though she always chose to wear jeans, turtlenecks, and gym shoes, she had her own reasons for following this pattern: she just didn't feel as if she could compete with the rest of the club. Though she knew she shouldn't do it, Kristy constantly compared herself to Claudia, Dawn, Stacey, and even Mary Anne. She figured in the BSC hierarchy of looks, she was slightly prettier than gawky Mallory, which wasn't saying much (however, Kristy always thought that Mal would probably end up being gorgeous in a few years, much to her chagrin). Shannon, a former BSC member, was no exception. Sometimes, Kristy wished she could just stop by Shannon's and ask for advice on how to change, but she always talked herself out of it. Kristy Thomas was no girly or feminine, and changing her appearance would be almost too much for her to deal with. It felt like she had multiple personas battling for who would come out on top.

Shannon smiled as she approached, scooping her hair into a ponytail. "What's new? I haven't seen you in ages!"

Kristy stifled a laugh. Ever since starting to date her older brother Sam, Shannon had become a constant fixture in her house (although most of the time they stayed locked up in his room, not that Watson ever noticed). "What's new, Shannon?"

"I was wondering if Sam said anything to you about what he had planned for this weekend. You know, since Watson and Elizabeth are going away, he was thinking of having a few people over. Nothing too crazy, of course."

Kristy's original reaction was to protest. After all, the old Kristy would never have let Sam throw a party when her parents were out of town. In fact, she was rarely alone in the house, save for the time that Bart Taylor came over and they made out while watching commercials. But something stopped her from saying anything. Maybe this was what she needed – a chance to step out and try something different. "Sounds fun," she said.

The frown that was beginning to grow on Shannon's face was replaced with a smile. "Really! I totally thought you'd say no. That's awesome, Kristy. Well, I better head out. I don't want to miss my bus. See you Friday!" With that, Shannon ran across the street to her stop without looking back.

"Why does math have to be my first class?" Claudia thought to herself as she entered the room. As she took her seat next to Alan Gray, she reminded herself that she wasn't supposed to say anything to him, at least not after what happened last summer. But really, it was so hard to resist.

Claudia and Alan used to be close. Too close, some might say. But that all changed as soon as they entered the summer after their freshman year of high school. Stacey, Claudia's best friend, began constantly lecturing Claudia about ditching her friends for her boyfriend. The whole time, Claudia thought that Stacey was after Alan, so she eventually broke up with him after she convinced herself that Alan was flirting with Stacey. Since then, Stacey and Claudia's relationship had become more strained, though they did still try and keep in touch. Alan and Claudia hadn't spoken since.

"Of course they had to seat us alphabetically," she thought to herself. Instead of copying down the Pythagorean Theorem, she pulled out her notebook and began to doodle in the margins. "Claudia," Alan whispered. She ignored him. "_Claud_," he said again, and she turned. He handed her a folded-up piece of paper. "Read it later," he said. She crumbled it and put it in her multi-colored beaded purse. Maybe she'd read it after school. Maybe.


	3. Chapter 3

Dawn opened Ducky's latest letter between classes. She hadn't been surprised when he came out earlier in the week, but she was disappointed. Ever since she moved back to California, she and Ducky had been spending more and more time together. After hanging out at the boardwalk one night, she and Ducky had had one of the most meaningful conversations of her life.

"What are you looking for out of life?" Ducky had asked her.

"Out of life? Who can say? I'd like to finish high school first before I start making any big plans," she teased.

Ducky picked up a flat stone and skimmed it across the surface of the still water. It bounced three times and splashed to the bottom. "Damn, I've never been good at this," Ducky mused.

Dawn turned the question back on him. "What do you want out of your life, Ducky?"

He dropped into the sand and sighed dramatically. "To be out of here. Maybe go to San Francisco, New York, Chicago. I just need some sort of change. But I'd probably go to San Francisco. I have a friend out there that I can stay with for a while." He slowly cuffed up his pants and charged into the surf. "Come on," he called, swimming furiously.

She hadn't taken him seriously at the time. Sure, Ducky had a rough time in high school, but he usually combated everything with his wit. In Dawn's static life, Ducky was one of the few consistent people. Even though she had originally met him through her best friend Sunny Winslow, she and Ducky had grown much closer over the years. In her last move to California, she and Ducky became even closer than ever, spending all of their time together.

Funnily enough, Dawn had even begun to think that she might be secretly in love with Ducky, though she could never admit it. There was just something about him that made him so different from other guys.

And again, Dawn laughed to herself. To think the thing that made Ducky so different from all of the other guys was the fact that they shared the same sexual preference.

She sighed and closed her locker, stuffing Ducky's note in her pocket. She'd read it when she didn't feel so close to the situation, so responsible for what had happened.

Mary Anne wrenched herself from Logan's grip, resisting the urge to wipe her face off after his battering of kisses. She hated PDAs, especially in front of her locker. But she couldn't tell Logan that. And it's not like it would change anything for her if she did. It's not like standing up for herself ever had any effect on Logan. Sure, he had a cute southern drawl and Cam Geary looks (who Mary Anne could still not believe had been busted for possession and was now in rehab – my, how things change!), but it didn't mean that their relationship had to play out in front of the whole school.

She excused herself to go to lunch, wondering if the BSC would still sit together. Even though the group no longer existed as they knew it, she still wanted to preserve their friendships. She just wondered if it would be too much for them to get past.

Mary Anne had spent the night before calling clients to inform them about the demise of the BSC. Most had taken it pretty well, and some had even confessed to Mary Anne that they had been considering switching sitters already. Plus, most of their clients were growing old enough to be left alone for a few hours, so the break up couldn't have come at a better time. Still, Mary Anne did cry a bit over how the situation played out, wondering if there was anything she could have done differently.

She sat across from Kristy in the lunchroom, who made a pointed effort to not look at Mary Anne. Instead, she took an aggressive bite out of her peanut butter sandwich. Mary Anne tried to bridge the gap. "Kris, I called everyone last night and told them about the BSC. They took it pretty well, for the most part. And most of our clients asked for numbers of specific sitters that they could reach if need be."

Kristy momentarily brightened. "Who asked for me?"

Mary Anne hesitated. "Well, the Rodowskys. And the Newtons."

"And?"

"And that was about it. Like I said, most of our clients already have new sitters lined up."

Kristy's face darkened again, and she balled up the rest of her sandwich and stormed off. "Excuse me, I have something to do," she called over her shoulder.

Mary Anne sat alone, wondering if she should go after Kristy. She was used to her sudden mood swings that had begun shortly after starting high school, but she had never seen her like this.

But Mary Anne wasn't one to confront. Instead, she ate her cold chicken sandwich quietly and did her math homework. Just maybe, she would try to call Kristy later that night.


	4. Chapter 4

-1Kristy ducked into the faculty bathroom, hoping that no one would see her cry. She rarely was so emotional, but today was just too much to handle at once. She had passed Claudia in the hall, and when she tried to say hi, Kristy turned the other way. She just wasn't ready to talk to Claudia right now.

She was just so frustrated! Sure, she could tell that her friends weren't as committed to the BSC as they used to be, but there were better ways to go about breaking up the club. Like having a logical conversation, not that Claudia was smart enough to do that. And Mary Anne would never say anything. If Claude hadn't said anything, Kristy could picture Mary Anne showing up for BSC meetings for the rest of her life.

The door opened, and Kristy let out as gasp. She hadn't anticipated anyone walking into the bathroom while she was crying. After all, she had chosen the faculty restroom for a reason. She sighed when she realized it was Ashley Wyeth, who she had never been very interested in. Ashley was artsy like Claudia and kind of spacey as well, and Kristy had never taken much of a liking towards her.

"Hey," Ashley said breathily, wandering towards the mirror. "What are you doing in the faculty bathroom?"

"I could ask the same of you," Kristy countered.

"I have a special pass from the nurse. The lunchroom gives me anxiety, so I usually spend lunch in the library. The faculty bathroom is way closer than going all the way to the other side of school."

Kristy restrained the urge to roll her eyes. Ashley's anxiety was well known throughout Stoneybrook. Though most people would probably try to hide their mental issues, Ashley wore hers like a badge. Kristy wondered how much of Ashley's anxiety was real and how much was put on for show. After all, Ashley always liked to stand out in her classes. Just last week, she had had a panic attack in gym class when faced with climbing the rope. Kristy momentarily felt bad, picturing the look on Ashley's face as she stared upwards. Maybe she wasn't faking, after all.

And who was she to judge, anyway? Just because Ashley had problems and wanted to talk about her didn't make her any better or worse off than Kristy. She almost wanted to say something to Ashley, to mention her own little personal vice, but something stopped her. Letting Ashley in on her secret was not something Kristy could do. She didn't know who Ashley might tell, especially given with how much Ashley liked to talk about her own problems. Still, she resolved to be a bit nicer to Ashley from now on. Maybe they were more enough than she had originally thought.

Ashley wandered into an empty stall, leaving her things down on the floor. Kristy continued to stare into the mirror, willing herself not to cry, when her glance dropped down to Ashley's book bag. The front pocket was wide open, and Kristy could see an array of art supplies: colored pencils, acrylic paints, a small sketchpad, some pencils, an X-ACTO knife…

Her heart raced for a moment. That's what she needed to feel better. She didn't know what Ashley was doing with an X-ACTO knife or how she brought it into school, but she didn't care. Carefully, she reached into the bag and grabbed the rubber handle. She could hear Ashley unlocking her stall door, so she quickly shoved the blade into her pocket and let herself out of the bathroom. And again, she thought to herself, _maybe Ashley and I are more alike than I thought_.

Claudia intended to not look at the note from Alan until after school, and she held her resolve. Still, as the clock ticked towards the final bell, she could barely keep herself from reaching into her bag and tearing it open. As soon as the bell rang, she flew to her locker, grabbed a few books (possibly not even the right ones), and ran out the door. She stopped in front of a bench and wrenched the paper open.

_Dear Claudia,_

_I know it's been a while since I've talked to you, but I just wanted to apologize again for everything that happened between us. Nothing happened between Stacey and me, even though I know that you still think it did. I really wish that you would give me another chance or at least try to be my friend for a while. I mean, you forgave Stacey, so why not me? Please give me another chance._

_Love,_

_Alan_

"Ass," she mumbled. Anything that had happened with Alan was over with now - why wouldn't he just let her move on? After all, her friendship with Stacey was much more important to her, as it always had been, and talking to Alan wasn't going to help. Stacey and Claudia had both promised never to talk to or about Alan again. They had already felt that strain on their friendship. Claudia crumbled the note in a ball and began walking home. She knew as soon as she got there, she would give Stacey a call and do a great job pretending that nothing had ever happened.

Across states, Stacey McGill picked up her laundry from the dry-cleaner and hurried home. She knew that her dad wouldn't be getting home for hours, but she relished having some time to herself. She unlocked the multiple locks on her door and ran into her room, quickly jumping into her bed and getting comfy.

She couldn't believe how worn out she was lately. For the first time since she was thirteen, her diabetes was under control, so much so that she barely thought about it. Her life was just so much more fast-paced in New York than it was in Stoneybrook. And what a life it was! Stacey and her old friend Laine Cummings had finally made up after their years of fighting, and things couldn't be better. Laine was able to get Stacey a fake ID that said she was 21, which meant that they could hit as many clubs as they wanted in a night. At the same time, Stacey was supposed to be keeping up her grades in school and occasionally taking BSC jobs on the weekend. It felt like she was leading a double life.

Not like she told any of the BSC members what was really going on. Stacey's typical day consisted of going to school, doing homework, going to whatever new club opening or designer sample sale that was going on at night, heading out to an after party, and stumbling home and crashing for a few hours. She would then wake up and do the same process the next day. That was only on school nights now - she couldn't even get into what her weekends in the city were like.

Laine always laughed when Stacey complained how tired she was or asked if they could stay in for a move. "Come on, Stoneybrook, let's go out for a bit. Just an hour, I promise!" Laine thought calling Stacey "Stoneybrook" was classic, just because it showcased how mature and "New York" that Laine had always been. So whenever Laine busted out the "Stoneybrook" on her, Stacey took it upon herself to show how hard she could party. They'd spend hours getting ready, layering their MAC lipgloss and trading BCBG skirts. Then, they'd head out to a cab and see who could stay up later, pick up more guys, or outdrink each other at the bar. Stacey knew what she was doing was dangerous, especially with her diabetes, but she just didn't care anymore. She was keeping her life together, for the most part (minus the failed Chem quiz), and she figured that soon she and Laine would tire of the party scene and move on.

Still, she knew how the BSC would react if they knew the new Stacey McGill. A few times, she had close to confiding in Claudia about what was really going on, but her relationship with Claudia was strained as is. As it was, she barely spoke with any of the other club members. She could already picture Kristy's condescending face or Mary Anne's tears. This is why she couldn't say anything to them. Instead, she recorded her thoughts in her small journal that she hid under her bed. She probably could have left it lying open on her desk. She wasn't really worried about her dad finding it; he barely noticed her coming and going. Occasionally, he'd make a comment on the length of her skirt or her haircut, but he'd laugh and lock the door behind her. This was one of the perks of living with her dad - he was just too damn busy to care.

Either way, Stacey was torn between feeling like she had the best life ever or wishing that she could go back to her mom in Stoneybrook. She could never, ever, confide in the BSC though - they just wouldn't understand. She was about to start writing in her journal when her private phone line rang.

"Hello?" she answered.

"Hi Stace!" It was Claudia.

"Hey Claude, how are you?"

"Eh…not so great, really. Have you talked to Kristy at all?"

Stacey laughed a little. "When was the last time that Kristy called me?" She paused, noting Claude's voice. "Is something wrong?"

"Well, you've probably had some idea that this was going to happen soon, but the BSC disbanded yesterday. I just thought you should know. The Johanssens have your number out there and are still going to call you to sit, and a few other clients asked for you as well."

Stacey didn't know what to say. In the back of her mind, she had been hoping that the group would disband soon so that she could focus on her life in New York and separate from Stoneybrook completely. But now that it had actually happened, she felt like she was losing the last semblance of normalcy in her life. The BSC (and her former friends) helped keep her grounded. She knew that she would never have this same lifestyle in Stoneybrook.

As her call waiting beeped, Stacey switched over and immediately connected to Laine. "So Stace, what's on the agenda tonight?"

"Laine, I think I need to stay in tonight. Claude just called with some bad news - the BSC broke up."

Laine whooped with excitement. "You're finally free!"

"Free? I hardly think that I have had much of a commitment to the BSC over the past few years."

"But now you have one less commitment to worry about. Now all of your weekends are free! So what are we doing tonight? I kind of have a taste for cupcakes at Magnolia, then maybe we can check out this apartment party that my friend Jim is having."

Stacey buried her face in her plush pillow and groaned. "Laine, please, can't we just go out tomorrow?"

"Nope, there's no apartment party tomorrow. Tomorrow's the Prada sample sale, plus makeovers at Aveda. Come on, Stoneybrook."

Stacey knew that Laine had her. As soon as the "Stoneybrook" left her mouth, Stacey always gave in. Of course, Laine could conveniently forget that Stacey had a math test in two days or a French quiz tomorrow. Either way, Laine always got her way. "I'm coming over," Laine said, and quickly hung up before Stacey had a chance to respond.

When she tried to click back to Claudia, she realized that her friend had already disconnected. Stacey knew she should call her back, but she just couldn't. It was hard to come up with the right emotions about the BSC dissolving when she had an apartment party to shop for.


	5. Chapter 5

Finally, Dawn had made it home from school. On Thursdays, she was generally caught up with the Environmental Club, of which she was the founder and president. Her whopping six members helped put together a "Save the Whales" fundraiser that would undoubtedly tank (especially after her "Save the Clouded Leopard" fundraiser had raised $64.83, mostly in change from the teacher's lounge), and she knew there was no way that she was going to get any sort of fundraising. She was in a foul mood.

On top of her failing club and the now-defunct BSC, she couldn't get Ducky's note out of her mind. She knew that he was in New York somewhere, but he couldn't say exactly where yet. This secretiveness wasn't like Ducky – generally, he wanted his friends to know where he was at all times. But Dawn didn't know how much longer she could stand the cryptic notes and postcards that Ducky was sending. They never had the same postmark, which either meant that he was traveling more than she anticipated or was going out of his way to throw her off. _Desperate times call for desperate measures_, she thought to herself, and reached for the phone to call Sunny.

Sunny was another obstacle in Dawn's life. Since her mother died back in eighth grade, Dawn never knew completely where she stood with Sunny. Of course, she would always call Sunshine Winslow her best friend, but what did that mean, really? Sure, they had been friends since they grew up together, but Dawn didn't know if that qualified them to be life-long BFFs. Still, she tried to make an effort to call Sunny and check in on how she was doing a few times a week.

"Hey Sunny," Dawn said as her friend picked up. She could almost hear Sunny smile over the phone.

"Dawn, how are you? You won't believe what just happened!"

"What's up?"

"Okay, you know how I've been asking Maggie for years if she could get me in a Hayden Blume production? Well, it's finally happened! I got a walk-on part in Final Destruction VI! Isn't that cool?"

"That's awesome, Sun. What's the role?"

"Well…" Sunny paused dramatically. "Right now my character's name is "Bikini Babe 2", but I'm going to try to work on getting a name, at least. I mean, I'd like _some_ credibility for my first role."

Dawn rolled her eyes, glad that Sunny couldn't see her. As usual, her friend was taking life to the extreme. Still, Sunny's enthusiasm was catchy, and Dawn immediately felt her mood lift. "Well, let me know how it goes."

"Of course. We start filming on Sunday, so I'll call you after I'm done. Hey, what have you been up to? I feel like we haven't talked in ages!"

"Oh, well, I've been busy with school, the usual. The BSC broke up."

"What? Well, I guess it was bound to happen. I mean, look at the We Love Kids Club."

The We Love Kids Club was the California version of the BSC, though it was always considered to be much more lax with the rules. When the group disbanded, much to Kristy's excitement, the We Love Kids Club started going their separate ways and making their own groups of friends.

"That's true. I mean, it couldn't have gone on for every. I mean, can you see us all in college, throwing Baby Parades and sleepovers?"

Sunny laughed, and then suddenly sounded serious. "Hey D, have you heard anything from Ducky? I've been trying to call his cell, but the number's disconnected. I guess he didn't pay his bill or something?"

Ducky was a slightly sore subject of conversation between the two of them. Originally, Ducky had been Sunny's friend. But as things often go in high school, the two of them began moving in separate directions. Dawn was never entirely sure what had happened between the two of them, but she always felt some serious sexual tension. Funny how that had worked out.

"That's what I was calling to ask you, actually. I've been getting these postcards and letters from him all the time, and – "

"Oh, nice of him to try and contact me at all," Sunny huffed. She sat silently for a long while, and finally asked, "How is he? Where is he?"

"That's the problem. I don't know where he is. Somewhere in New York, but the postmark always changes. And he won't say what's he's been up to or where he's living. He usually just talks about how much fun he's having and how glad he is that he left Palo Alto."

"Great. Just great. This is just what I need to hear."

Dawn was surprised at Sunny's sudden concern for Ducky's disappearance. After all, this was a girl who tried to run away with a guy she met at the beach when she was thirteen. Sunny's disappearing acts were legendary, mainly because they always fell through at the last moment. Dawn couldn't help but wonder if Sunny was harboring some jealousy towards Ducky, based on the fact that he was able to vanish so easily.

"Well, I guess I'll let you go. I'll call you if I hear anything else."

"Thanks, bye Dawn."

"Oh, and Sunny? Good luck on the movie. Let me know how it goes."

Dawn put down the receiver, disappointed yet not surprised by how their conversation had turned out.

Downstairs in the Spier-Schafer residence, Mary Anne was yet again trying to pry Logan's wandering hands off of her chest. After all, study date to her meant actual studying, especially since they had a math test the next morning. "Logan, _come on_."

"Aw, Mary Anne," he grinned. "Can't you give me a break once in a while? We've been dating for years now, and you barely let me get to second base."

"Well, I can tell you, it's not going to happen today."

Logan tried to pull a bit of guy logic on her. "But baby, you don't understand what it's like for a guy. I mean, you're so hot, and . . ." As Logan continued speaking, Mary Anne tuned him out. She'd heard this same speech year after year and was frankly bored with his candor. She had told him countless times that she wanted to stay a virgin until marriage, but Logan never believed her. Sure, she wasn't holding signs at abstinence rallies, but she wanted to wait until the right moment. _Typical guy_, she thought to herself. Though she had always believed that Logan was the perfect boyfriend for her, she was beginning to dislike the new sides of him that she had noticed after the honeymoon period of their relationship died down.

As Logan continued speaking, Mary Anne flipped through her notebook and began working and reworking math formulas. She felt pretty prepared for the test, even though math wasn't really her best subject. Logan looked like he was about to get gropy again, so Mary Anne was relieved when Dawn entered the room and plopped down on the couch. "Hey guys."

"Hey Dawn," they both said simultaneously. Mary Anne wanted to groan out loud. She knew that she and Logan were spending way too much time together when they were speaking at the same time.

Logan stood up carefully. "I'm going to go. I'm not really accomplishing anything here."

Dawn winked. "I'll bet!"

Logan quickly let himself out. "Some study date!" Dawn said to Mary Anne. "You guys have been down here for hours."

Mary Anne reddened. "It's really not what you think. Honestly, I really was studying."

Dawn rolled her eyes. "God, I wish I was doing that kind of studying. But I haven't had a boyfriend in who knows how long. Plus, there's my unfortunate attraction to gay males."

Mary Anne laughed at her sister's candor. Dawn hadn't been herself lately and had been speaking more and more about going back to California. But Dawn never paid attention to how her moves affected anyone other than herself, especially her family. Every time Dawn moved away, Sharon took it personally. This made living in the Spier-Schafer house hard for Mary Anne, especially because of the intense pressure placed on her.

Essentially, Sharon expected Mary Anne to fill in the role of two daughters while Dawn was away. If Mary Anne did poorly on a test, it was as if both girls had done poorly. If Mary Anne was late for dinner, well, the punishment seemed doubled. Sharon had also taken to talking about Dawn in a spooky voice and saying things like "When Dawn was here…" – the kind of things that were usually reserved for someone who had passed away. It freaked Mary Anne out. Plus, the pressure was grueling. Mary Anne felt like she was doing double duty all the time, but didn't want to say anything in fear of upsetting Sharon too much. Once, when she had mentioned to Sharon how much she missed Dawn, Sharon burst into tears and cried for three hours about how she was an awful mother and how her kids must hate her because they always left. She followed this with locking herself in the bathroom for the rest of the night and wouldn't come out until Richard left stuffed grape leaves and herbal tea in front of the door. Mary Anne couldn't remember being that scared or worried in a long time.

Needless to say, Mary Anne was ecstatic that Dawn was back, mainly because it helped lift Sharon from the inevitable depression that struck her every time Dawn left. She would do anything in her power to keep Dawn from leaving again, save for short vacations.

"Girls, come help me with dinner!" Sharon called as she opened the door. She plopped a bag of groceries on the table and opened the fridge. Mary Anne counted the seconds before Sharon placed her keys in the butter compartment. Twenty five, twenty six – ah, there it was. Dawn noticed and grabbed them out, placing them back in Sharon's purse. "Mom, you have to be more careful with these things. It would save you so much time and energy that you waste trying to find all your stuff in the morning."

Sharon beamed at her daughter and planted a kiss on her cheek. "I'm so happy to have you back. In fact, I'm so happy to have both of my girls here. Come here, Mary Anne." She gave Mary Anne a big kiss, and Mary Anne tried to back off without causing a scene. Ever since Sharon's breakdown, she still didn't know how to react around her stepmother.

But one thing was for sure. Until they left for college, Mary Anne was not letting Dawn go ANYWHERE.


	6. Chapter 6

_Author's note: Thanks for all of the reviews so far! I've finally figured out where this story is heading, so I hope to have many (longer) updates in the upcoming week. Thanks for reading!_

Stacey was dripping with couture. "Not necessarily a bad thing!" Laine called from the dressing room next to hers. Stacey pulled off the Kenneth Cole boots and threw on some Monolos instead, pleased with how she looked. Her new Diesel jeans fit her perfectly, enhancing her skinny body. For a while, the members of the BSC had told Stacey that she needed to gain weight, especially after she had moved back to New York. But as many times as they had tried to tell her, Stacey knew that she could never get past a size 4. Her diabetes limited so many things that she wanted to eat that she just couldn't get up an appetite to binge on apples. Plus, she thought she looked great. She had gotten taller, her cheekbones looked like awesome slashes in her cheeks, and her hipbones looked perfect paired with low-rise jeans. She had the perfect body to hang designer clothes on.

"I'm taking everything!" she called to the salesgirl. Stacey liked to think that her only real vice brought on by New York was shopping. Her dad had recently received a promotion at work, which meant that he upped Stacey's spending privileges. Still, she knew she was just a tiny bit over budget this month. So, instead of paying her bills of right now, she had taken to throwing away her balance so that her dad wouldn't see it. She figured that she'd work out a way to pay it off eventually. Or her dad might not even notice. Maybe she could slip this one past him.

"$1, 596.32," the salesperson said pleasantly. Stacey handed over her platinum card and tried not to wince.

"Geez, this is a sample sale," Laine said. "I thought you were supposed to end up _saving_ money at these things."

Stacey gestured towards her piles of bags. "But look at how much stuff I ended up getting." It was true – Laine could count seven different carrier bags stuffed with clothes. The seams were stretching on a few as it was.

Stacey looked longingly at the cashier's Dior sunglasses. "Did you get those glasses here? Are there anymore?"

The cashier smiled. "Sure, right over there on that display."

Stacey grinned. "I'll take two pairs." She passed one over to Laine. "What's the fun with having money if you can't share the wealth?"

A half hour later, Stacey and Laine were across town waiting for the subway. Laine had secured special invites to a club where this new jam band, Lucky Strike, was playing. "Invite only!" Laine had said earlier, dangling the tickets in front of Stacey's face. Stacey, on the other hand, had been facedown on her bed with a blanket pulled up to her chin. She didn't want to leave her room ever again.

"_Stoneybrook_, come on!" Laine had said.

"God, I hate when you call me that!"

"Then get up and get ready. And we have to stop at the sample sale too. Let's go."

So, that was how they had ended up together for the day. They were now planning to stop by Stacey's apartment and drop off their bags, get ready for the night, and head out.

"I hope I meet someone tonight!" Laine giggled.

"Laine, you always meet someone when we go out."

"Yeah, but never anyone quality. What about a doctor? That would be all kinds of hot."

"You're fifteen. Like some doctor is going to hook up with you."

"Well, maybe a doctor just out of med school. And I easily look eighteen. So why worry?"

Stacey wondered why she even put with Laine sometimes. Sure, they had been best friends when they were younger. But maybe too much time had passed, maybe they were too different. What would have happened if she had stayed in New York her whole life and never moved to Stoneybrook? Would she have been – _gulp_ – another Laine?

Sure, Stacey could imagine that people probably thought of her and Laine as the exact same kinds of people: snobby, well-dressed, and privileged. And of course, Stacey liked the perks of having a dad who spoiled her rotten and always let her have whatever she wanted. But she knew there had to be more to life than this. She had found some semblance of that in Stoneybrook, where her biggest stressors had been what boy liked her in middle school, what client she was sitting for that afternoon, or what event her friends were planning. There had to be more to life than this.

Unlike Laine, Stacey had a plan. She wanted to go to NYU so bad – it was the only school she could ever picture herself attending. Laine's plan was to bed as many guys as possible and hopefully marry young and rich. Stacey knew that the partying was going to catch up with her; it was really only a matter of time.

Until then, though, Stacey would allow herself to be dragged to more events. After all, she was only young once, right?

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Kristy spent most of the evening in her room, pretending that she was asleep. Watson and Elizabeth had both poked their heads in from time to time and murmured sympathetic responses to Kristy's complaining. Kristy hadn't yet told them about the demise of the BSC; she was equally surprised when Watson called to her that Mallory Pike was on the phone.

She couldn't remember the last time that she and Mal had had an actual conversation. Of all the members in the BSC, Kristy and Mallory had the least in common. Even when the club first formed, Kristy had trouble getting past Mal's age difference. Sure, she was a great sitter, but the fact that she couldn't take on as many jobs or the later hours gave Mal a severe handicap. Kristy could never admit it to anyone else, but she always thought that the BSC should have tried to find a few extra members the same age or pressured Logan and Shannon to be full-time. But of course, no one else would understand that rationale.

Mal seemed to feel the same way about calling Kristy. "Hey Kristy," she said, sounding slightly panicked.

"Hey Mallory, what's going on? Is everything okay?" Kristy threw that last part in on purpose, knowing that Mal would only call her if there was some sort of emergency going on.

"Actually, it's not. Adam broke his arm while the triplets and Nicky were playing baseball in the yard. My parents are taking him to the hospital, and I need someone to help me watch the kids. I tried called Claudia and Mary Anne, but you were the only one I could get a hold of."

Kristy tried not to get offended about the comment. Clearly, Mal wasn't thinking because of Adam. Plus, she did live across town. Maybe Mallory was more logical than Kristy had given her credit for. "Okay, let me get Watson to give me a ride. I'll be over in twenty minutes."

"Thanks, Kristy! You're a lifesaver."

Kristy sprinted around her room, quickly changing out of her pajamas and throwing on her usual uniform. She stuffed her slightly greasy hair in a baseball cap that had a picture of a collie on it and glanced around again. Should she bring her kidkit? Nah, Mal would have one of her own still, most likely. She threw on a pair of gym shoes

When Watson dropped her off at the Pike house, Mrs. Pike was already sprinting out the door. "Thanks, Kristy," she called, getting into the family's brand new SUV. Kristy could see Adam propped up in the backseat with a pillow, looking like he was in a lot of pain.

"Thank you so much, Kristy," Mal said, giving her a huge hug. Kristy didn't return the hug, mostly because she was so confused by the gesture. It's not like Mallory and Kristy were ever close, nor shared any signs of affection towards each other, but Kristy guessed that this was brought on by her brother's injury.

"The kids have been pretty quiet today," Mallory said, leading Kristy inside. "I think they're so freaked out by Adam that they are on their best behavior. Vanessa, Claire, and Margo have been putting together a puzzle downstairs, and the other triplets and Nicky have been locked in their rooms.

"So it's a low-key night at the Pike house," Mal continued. "I probably could have handled this on my own, but I would rather have some company. Please, sit down for a bit. Can I get you anything?"

It was so odd interacting with Mallory. So formal, yet so forced. It was as if one didn't want to offend the other with anything she might say. Kristy couldn't remember the last time she and Mal had had any sort of extended conversation that didn't have to do with the club.

"So, are you okay with the BSC breaking up?" Mal asked Kristy.

"As okay as I can be," Kristy replied. She really didn't feel comfortable talking about this with Mal. Her wrists itched, and she almost rolled up her sleeves, betraying her secret stress reliever. Luckily, she remembered in time. There was no way that she wanted Mal involved in this.

Claire, the youngest of the Pike kids, came skipping into the room. "Is Adam going to be okay?" she asked.

"Well, he's probably going to have a cast for a while. We're still waiting for mom and dad to come home."

"A cast? Cool!" Over the past year, Claire had developed a fascination with all things medical. The Pikes had gotten a satellite dish, and Claire spent hours watching the Discovery Health Channel. The Pikes encouraged this obsessive TV watching only because it was educational.

As Claire wandered out of the room, Mallory hesitantly invited Kristy to hang out upstairs in her room. "That way, we can still hear everyone if they need something."

"Sure."

Kristy could never remember feeling this awkward with Mallory before. She tried to mentally calculate what was different about her now. Though Mal was now in eighth grade, she was still as awkward as she had been in the sixth grade. However, now she tried a lot harder to enhance her somewhat homely appearance. Her hair, originally unruly and red, had been lightened to more of a strawberry blonde shade ("Which doesn't work with her skin tone at all," Claudia had pointed out many times). What little makeup that her parents allowed her to wear was applied poorly, and she still wasn't allowed to wear the kind of outfits that Stacey and Claudia could. Still, Mallory was at least trying to play up some assets; she hadn't gone too over the edge to look clownish or silly. Of course, Kristy would have pointed that out to her. Though Kristy wasn't one to notice fashion, she was quite apt to point out when someone else's look didn't quite work. After all, her friends had been criticizing her for years for her "uniform."

Since Mal was the oldest, she was finally granted the privilege of having her own room. Mrs. Pike had taken the spare bedroom (really, no bigger than a closet) and had converted it into Mal's own space. Inside, there were rows of bookshelves, covered in everything from classics to children's lit. There were also framed pictures of horses on the wall, a hobby that Mal had never really outgrown.

"You're room looks great," Kristy said, trying to break the ice. She sat down on Mal's desk chair and began glancing over the contents of Mal's desk. She was the only Pike to have her own computer, which she had saved up for with her babysitting money; the rest of the family used the computer in the den. Kristy opened up a game of solitaire and Mal began thumbing through a textbook. She couldn't remember ever being this lazy while babysitting.

"I can't believe how quiet everyone is. I'm going to go check on them and make sure everything's okay."

"Want some help?"

"No, stay here. I'll be back in a few minutes."

Mal left the room, and Kristy continued to play her card game. Right as she was about to move the last king to the top, an IM popped up on the screen from Ballerina01.

Jessi, of course. Kristy didn't know any other ballerinas in Stoneybrook. Jessi had been absent a lot from the BSC lately because her career had begun to take off, so she spent a lot of time in Stanford and New York, putting in long hours to further develop her talent.

Kristy tried not to read the IM, but it was too enticing not to.

Ballerina01: Mal, hey. I know we haven't talked in a long time.

Ballerina01: So I've been thinking about what you said and what happened between us. I mean, I have always loved you as a friend, Mal. But what happened between us shouldn't have happened. I don't feel the same way about you as you feel about me.

Ballerina01: Mal? Are you there?

Kristy didn't know how to react. Jessi and Mal? She could guess what had happened between them (well, maybe she couldn't), but did she really want to know in the first place? Kristy downsized the conversation box and left it for Mal to read over later. There was no way that she was having this conversation with her. She already had invaded Mal's privacy enough that day.

But Kristy had to wonder. How many of the other members of the BSC were carrying secrets this heavy?


	7. Chapter 7

_Author's Note: Thanks again for all of your helpful reviews and comments. I'll keep trying to update as soon as possible. Also, Claudia's story is at a dead end for me – any suggestions? Thanks for reading!_

Kristy continued to stare at the message that was on Mal's computer. Mal had already re-entered the room, but she didn't seem too concerned about the flashing box on the screen. She was trying to think of a tactful way to bring it up when she remembered who she was. Kristy Thomas was _never_ tactful.

"Uh, Mal? When I was playing solitaire, a message from Jessi popped up on the screen. It said some things that I probably shouldn't have seen."

"Such as? Oh…" Mal trailed off, her face slightly reddening. "Can we please not get into that?"

"Sure," Kristy said, fine with changing the subject. "Let's go see how the kids are."

Mal's words came out in a rush. "I mean, it's just that Jessi and I have been friends for so long, and I started to have this potential crush on her. But I couldn't tell if I had actual feelings for her or if I just admired her. She's so gorgeous, you know. So we were hanging out one night and I kissed her, just to see what it was like. Well, she totally got the wrong idea. I mean, I didn't even feel anything towards her after that – it was just something that I had to do and then get over. And now she won't even talk to me, at least not in person. It's like she thinks I'm going to tackle her or something."

"But can't you see Jessi's point? How is it fair of you to kiss Jessi just to test your feelings out? She's your best friend, and you used her! No wonder she doesn't want to see you in person."

"Keep your voice down!" Mal shushed her. "Like I want my whole family to know about this. Anyway, I'm a writer. I need to experiment with all aspects of life so that I have something to write about."

Kristy scoffed. If, at thirteen, Mallory Pike could call herself a writer, then Kristy felt that it was fine to call herself an entrepreneur and CEO of a highly successful company. Her resume would flourish!

"So…you're not a lesbian? You don't have feelings for Jessi, then?" Kristy was thinking back to the huge hug that Mallory had given her lately. Not that she was creeped out or anything, but it was a lot to take in at once.

"Hah! No, I'm not a lesbian. Never have been. I was seriously just testing it out to see what it was like. See, I'm planning to enter this short story contest, and…"

Kristy tuned her out. Here, she had been ready to sit down and console Mallory about her lost friendship with Jessi; instead, she had found out that Mallory Pike might be the most manipulative person that she knew. She tried to shut her mouth and hold back the words that she knew were just ready to spill out.

"Mal, what I can't get past is that you used your best friend without any explanation to her about what was going on in your mind. That's not a fair way to treat Jessi. Look at how much you two have been through."

"Like you know Jessi at all. You've barely spoken to her, ever."

Kristy was about to protest when she realized that Mallory was correct. She couldn't recall ever talking to Jessi about anything other than the BSC. They weren't friends outside of the club, so why should she be defending Jessi as much as she was? Still, what Mallory did was completely uncalled for.

Kristy was about to open her mouth when Claire burst into the room. "Look! I made my own cast, just like Adam!" She was covered in what appeared to be wetted down toilet paper and glue. Kristy sighed and turned to Mal. "Come on, let's get her cleaned up."

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Since it was Thursday night, Dawn couldn't think of anything better to do than clean her room. Her step-dad must be rubbing off on her, she mused, as she folded a pair of socks into a ball and placed it in her color-coordinated drawers. When he suggested this new folding and cleaning system to Dawn, she balked at the idea of changing her habits. After all, this was Richard, the biggest neat freak in the world, trying to put his ideas into Dawn's head. But each weekend, he'd suggest a new task for them to try, like making filing systems for bills or re-alphabetizing the DVD collection. Boring, yes, but it was a quirk of his that Dawn was beginning to like.

Really, what Dawn liked was how Richard was able to categorize and simplify every aspect of his life. When he was depressed, he would sweep and polish the hardwood floors; three hours later, he was in a great mood and took the family out for Chinese. And on a day that Richard was happy, he'd scrub the shower until the minute mold buildup was completely gone. Mary Anne had jokingly suggested that he get tested for OCD once or twice, which Dawn didn't think was a bad idea at all.

They quite possibly lived in the cleanest house in all of Connecticut.

Dawn finished her sock pile and began moving into folding pajamas. This required using a completely different drawer, which Dawn didn't understand. Clearly, pajamas and socks could be placed together. But it was Richard's system, not hers, so she was apt to follow.

Separate by color, fold, put away. Once she started breaking it into a rhythm, Dawn felt completely relaxed. She wasn't worried about Ducky, or Sunny, or anyone. Just relaxing and cleaning. Maybe Richard was onto something. She'd have to talk to him about writing a self-help book.

Dawn's silence was shattered as Mary Anne clomped into the room in a pair of heavy fall boots. "Sorry, was I being too loud?" she asked when she saw the aggravated look on Dawn's face.

"No…it's fine. I'm just doing some cleaning."

"I can tell. Looks good in here." Mary Anne then pulled a typical Richard move and ran a finger along Dawn's dresser. "This thing could use some dusting, though."

Maybe Dawn would have to reconsider the cleaning kick. She had forgotten Richard's tidiness inspections that generally followed.

"So, are you going to hang out with us tomorrow night? Your mom mentioned something about us going to dinner and a movie, and then maybe playing a board game or something."

"Tomorrow? Oh, she never even said anything to me. I have plans with my friend Amalia from Palo Alto. She's been in New York for the past week, but her mom is going to drive her to Stoneybrook to hang out."

"Oh…so it's just me, Dad, and Sharon?" Mary Anne began biting the inside of her lip.

"Looks like it. Aww, don't look so sad. I'm sure it will be really fun. I mean, I would totally go if I didn't have plans."

"Can I come?"

Dawn absolutely hated to refuse her stepsister anything. But it was Amalia's only night in town, and Dawn hadn't seen her in two months. Plus, she wanted to talk to Amalia alone about Ducky. "Mary Anne, I can't bring you with. I'm sorry. It's just that I haven't seen Amalia in ages, and – "

"No, it's okay. I understand. I'm sure we'll have fun," Mary Anne whispered in a robotic voice. "Well, I'm going to head to my room now. See you tomorrow."

After Mary Anne stomped out of the room, Dawn tried to push the conversation out of her mind. Since she had moved back, it was almost like Mary Anne wouldn't let her out of her sight. She kept meaning to mention something, but she was just so busy with catching up at school. All those moves back and forth had put her a bit behind the class, so the piles of makeup work seemed endless.

Although Dawn was concerned about Mary Anne, there was nothing she could do about it. She tried to get Mary Anne to open up, and she wouldn't. Besides, what could be so bad? She had a dad and step-mom who loved her, a cat, and a dreamy boyfriend. Humming to herself, Dawn felt her remorse begin to lift.

Separate, fold, put away. There, that was better.

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Down the hallway, Mary Anne let out a scream into her favorite plush pillow. How could Dawn misunderstand her so much? No, it was even a misunderstanding – Dawn just didn't care about her.

Didn't she know what it was like for Mary Anne when she was back in California? Mary Anne doubted it, because Dawn never even bothered to ask. In fact, she only called home once in a while. That's what made this move back to Stoneybrook so surprising; Dawn had convinced everyone that she was never, ever returning.

And tomorrow night! What was Mary Anne supposed to do all night with her parents? Couldn't Dawn see that her mother was in a precious balance between "not quite all there" and "complete and utter basket case?" As soon as Sharon had suggested Family Fun Night, Mary Anne had hoped that her date with Logan would keep her out of it. However, Logan was so aggravated about their failed study date that he told Mary Anne that he would call her sometime over the weekend instead. Mary Anne was stuck.

Mary Anne didn't even want to picture Sharon's reaction when she heard that Dawn was going out with Amalia for the night. Would it be another night of locking herself in for hours? Or would it be a more manic evening, filled with fake bright smiles and intense enthusiasm for board games? Mary Anne didn't know how much longer Sharon would be able to keep it all together, but she feared that it wouldn't hold out much more – especially if Dawn ever moved cross-country again.

As Mary Anne let out a series of punches onto her pillow, she tried to think back on the last time that she was truly happy. All she could come up with was 8th grade. How sad was it that her life had peaked at the age of 13? If 8th grade ended up being the highlight of her life, how bad could it get from here?

Overall, the happiest she had ever been was post her fabulous makeover. Of course, her friends had been so hesitant to her changes, but she knew how great she looked. She got attention from people who would have never have paid her the slightest of compliments; then, she was instantly popular.

With the BSC now defunct, maybe it was time to make another drastic change. Maybe it was time to branch out, to get past this shy shell of herself who was scared of every shadow and movement. She jumped off of her bed and ran to her closet, hastily flipping through her preppy sweaters and school-marm blouses. As she threw everything onto her bed, she shook her head in amazement. Had she been dressing in the dark? No one dressed like this anymore!

Her memory flashed back to Dawn's extreme makeover, back when her then-pen pal Louis had come to town. Dawn had completely remade her clothes, hair, and attitude, and it hadn't work as well as Mary Anne had anticipated. Of course, Lewis ended up liking the casual Dawn, not the cool girl that Mary Anne had helped her become. Couldn't Dawn have at least given Mary Anne some credit for her help? Didn't she see that Mary Anne was living vicariously through her, trying to get out of her rut with her boring boyfriend, boring family, boring cat, and boring life?

Mary Anne ripped a large gap in the front of a cardigan. She didn't know quite the look she was going for. Alternative chick? Goth girl? Completely punk rock? Whatever it was, it had to be an improvement over her Gap sweaters and Banana Republic jeans. She ripped holes through each pair of pants, laughing to herself as she went along. Her family had no idea what was coming.

After she had trashed her wardrobe, she began rifling through her small bag of makeup. It was decent, mostly neutrals and earth tones, but she figured a trip to the drug store would help that.

What was left? Ah…her eyes lit up on her long hair. Ever since the BSC had had such a bad reaction to her short hair and makeover, she had begun to grow her hair out. Now, it was a respectable length, past her shoulders. But maybe now was the time to cut it again. This new Mary Anne remembered how confident she felt with short hair and how much it changed the shape of her face.

The sewing shears that she had used to change her wardrobe were sitting right in front of her. Dawn had always warned her how awful it was to cut one's own hair, especially after her friend Maggie Blume did a complete butcher job on her own hair one night back in California. But Mary Anne was rational. She had patience.

Ever so slowly, she snipped a small section of hair in the front, testing it out. She felt the weight of the shears in her hand, slowly slicing precious inches off. Slowly, slowly, she cut the front section, pleased with her new style. She had bangs! And they looked good!

Mary Anne was ready to tackle the length now. She brushed her hair out and sectioned it off, carefully sweeping the fallen strands into the wastebasket. She was about to begin as Dawn barged into the room.

"Hey MA, what are you up to? Whoa, what happened in here?"

"Oh…just a little cleaning." Mary Anne now took the chance to survey her room, taking in her ruined (or revamped, as she would later tell her family) wardrobe and clumps of hair clinging in the garbage can.

"You cut bangs now? Isn't that a little…childish? I didn't even know people had bangs anymore."

Mary Anne colored and dropped the scissors to the desk. Maybe Dawn was right. Maybe this was a terrible idea.

"I mean, they look again. But it's such a bad idea to cut your own hair. Remember what happened to my friend Maggie?"

Mary Anne nodded and put the scissors back in her desk drawer. Dawn ran out, calling to Mary Anne that she would help her clean as soon as she was done with her own room.

She studied her face in the mirror. She thought she didn't look half-bad. Why did everyone always try to ruin her confidence?

Tomorrow, things were going to change. It was to be a debut of the brand new Mary Anne Spier. But today, she was going to hang onto one old habit to feel better. She grabbed her plush pillow, put her head down, and cried until she dozed off.

But the new Mary Anne wouldn't cry. After tonight, she vowed that she would have no more tears to shed.


	8. Chapter 8

Laine hiked up Stacey's miniskirt up a good two extra inches. "You're wearing that all wrong," she complained.

"Wrong? It's already short enough. Soon everyone will be able to see my _thong_," she retorted.

"Fine, trade with me then. You can wear my jeans."

Stacey didn't really want to wear Laine's jeans, but she also didn't want to wear her hoochified Laine-style skirt. They quickly exchanged outfits back to back and then turned to look at themselves in Laine's floor length lighted mirror.

"Much better," Laine commented, smoothing the skirt down to release the tiniest of wrinkles. They each grabbed their purses and walked to the sidewalk in front of the building, waiting for Laine's driver to shuttle them downtown.

The band they were seeing, Lucky Strike, was just about to become big in New York. So far, no one had seen them live before; the only reason Laine was able to get the tickets was because her dad had an in with the band's manager. Still, it was rumored that the band had a great new sound, a blend of soul and ska and dance. Although Stacey had her usual complaint of being exhausted, she was incredibly excited to go out and see this band.

As they stepped out the door, Laine winked at Stacey. "Girl, we are going to have _fun_ tonight!"

And Stacey believed her. She pushed aside thoughts of the lab she had to catch up on and the possible pop quiz in French. Maybe she'd just get her dad to call her in sick instead.

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Kristy felt a manic burst of energy as she left the Pike house. Though her brother Sam was waiting in the driveway to pick her up, what she wanted to do most was to run all the way across town to her house.

The rest of the night had passed awkwardly, to say the least. After helping Claire get cleaned up, Mal started a game of Cranium with the girls, and Kristy played video games with the boys. This was so different than she had ever wanted her babysitting jobs to run. Wasn't the point of the BSC to engage their charges in activities instead of sitting around and playing video games?

But again, she thought as she flung herself into the Junk Bucket (recently passed on from Charlie, who was away at Pepperdine for college), the BSC was over with. She may never baby-sit for anyone other than her family ever again.

At least Adam was doing okay. He came home with a brand new cast, which the Pike kids clamored to sign first. As soon her family came in the door, Mal shot Kristy a look that said, _Don't tell my family anything._ The Pikes paid Kristy nicely, with a $10 tip for coming at such short notice.

"Hope you win that short story contest, Mal!" Kristy called as she sprinted outside to Sam's waiting car. She hadn't been able to catch the look on Mal's face, but she could imagine it was just priceless.

As Sam and Kristy drove through town, the conversation between them was quite stilted. Ever since Sam had started dating Shannon, she wasn't really sure what to say to her brother. He would often pump Kristy for information about her past boyfriends and what she was like as a member of the BSC. Kristy barely knew how to answer these questions; Shannon was always great at keeping her personal life quiet and sharing only the minute details of her overachieving lifestyle.

There were a lot of perks to Sam's relationship with Shannon, though. Shannon brought out a much more serious side in Sam. It made Kristy respect her brother a lot more, especially since he needed to earn so much more of her trust back from the past few years.

What Kristy really didn't like to talk about was how her brother was in trouble a few years back. While he was in high school, Sam was involved with an experimental crowd. She didn't know specifically what sorts of drugs that Sam had been on at the time, but she knew that they had taken her brother away for a while. He would come home at all hours of the night, eyes dilated, with a bright smile on his face. "Hey Kris, good morning!" he would call, barging into her room at three in the morning. That was at his best. His worst was when Kristy found him slumped over his desk with a suspicious bag of powder. "Want some?" he had asked plainly. "I don't mind sharing."

Kristy had never hit anyone before, but that night, she slapped her brother so hard that her parents heard the crack in the other room. And that was how Watson and Elizabeth had found out about Sam's late night habit, the one that Kristy had tried to conceal in hopes of Sam kicking it on his own.

Sam had spent a month in a rehab facility known as Stoneybrook Glen, or as her family called it, "on vacation." This phrase was used in sentences such as "How's Sam's vacation?" or "When will Sam's vacation be over?" The Brewer-Thomases had done a great job of keeping Sam's addictions quiet, with no one outside of the immediate family knowing. Kristy had visited him there exactly one time, when Sam couldn't look her in the eye. She knew that he didn't blame her, but it was too much to handle at the time.

Sam had been sober for a little over a year now, but Kristy still watched him for signs of relapse. Just the other day, he had come home with red-rimmed eyes. "It's just my allergies," he snapped when Kristy gave him a questioning look. Still, she believed him when he said he was done, so she would just have to trust him.

And then, Shannon became a factor in the equation. Sam had always been friendly to her, but he hadn't really noticed her until a few years back. Sure, Sam had casually dated some of Kristy's friends before (Stacey being the most serious relationship of the bunch), but Kristy had never seen her brother act the way that he did with Shannon. It didn't hurt that Shannon had morphed into quite the bombshell over the past few years, which was probably what had enticed Sam in the first place. She had once confessed to Kristy that she had gotten a nose job simply because everyone kept saying it was "ski-jump cute!" But Shannon wasn't as uptight or vain as she seemed. She was much more relaxed and fun now, yet still kept her grades stellar and her life in perfect order. Kristy envied her more than anyone else she knew.

Plus, Shannon helped keep Sam in line. She had once confessed to Kristy that half the time they were locked up in Sam's room, she was helping him study and catch up in his classes. _Of course, the other half of the time was occupied as well_, Shannon had winked at her. Kristy had almost felt like vomiting but reminded herself what a good influence that Shannon was on Sam.

"So, did Shannon say anything to you about the party this weekend?" Sam asked.

"Yep, she mentioned it. Did you figure out a day yet?"

"I'm thinking Saturday. There's a game tomorrow night, so most people will be busy with that. So Saturday sounded good."

Kristy weighed her words carefully. "And you're going to be … okay … at this party, right? You aren't inviting any of your old friends from…before?"

Sam scowled for an instant, then smiled. "No Kris, none of that. It's going to be your normal high school party. A few kegs, some mixed drinks, and lots of body shots. Well, hopefully lots of body shots!"

"Gross!" Kristy groaned.

"Hey, thanks for being so cool about this. I mean, Shannon and I totally thought that you wouldn't be down for having people over."

Kristy was slightly offended until she realized that Sam was completely right. The old Kristy would have hated throwing a party when her parents weren't home and would have tried to do anything to stop it. "Well, what can I say? Let's take advantage of Mom and Watson being out of town, for once!"

Sam high-fived her and did some sort of complicated handshake that she couldn't follow. They spend the rest of the ride home in comfortable silence. Kristy couldn't believe she was admitting this, but she was actually looking forward to the weekend now.

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Claudia was working on a series of still charcoals for her favorite class, Studio Art. She had her radio on, which was blaring the latest songs from the local college station. She was completely in her zone, shading, smudging, and blending the charcoal as she worked. Though she wasn't doing well in any of her other classes, she knew that she would get an A on this assignment. She always got As in art classes.

The mood was broken as Mary Anne burst through Claudia's closed door, not even bother to knock. She looked around Claud's room frantically as if searching for some sort of answer.

"You have to help me!" Mary Anne begged. She took a step closer to Claudia's desk, and Claud took a good look at her. "Geez, Mary Anne, are you okay?" Her face was red and puffy, and she looked like she had sprinted all the way to Claudia's house. Plus, her clothes were torn up. "Have you been in an accident or something?"

Mary Anne glanced down at her ripped jeans and laughed harshly. "No, I didn't. Claud, you _have_ to help me."

Claud hated to see her friend beg, even if she hadn't spent any quality time with Mary Anne in the past few years. There had been a slight break in the group when Claudia began dating Alan, which was intensified even more after Claudia and Alan broke up. When the two first began dating, Mary Anne had planned numerous double dates for the couples to go on. Of course, all of this was fun for a little while, but Claudia and Alan craved some alone time to let their relationship grow further. When Claudia tried to explain this to Mary Anne in a note, the words came out wrong and made it seem like Claudia didn't have fun on any of the dates or appreciate Mary Anne's effort. Since then, Mary Anne had been slightly cool and aloof towards Claudia, though never unfriendly. Even when Claudia had tried to invite Mary Anne and Logan out after writing her note, things were never the same.

And then there was the whole Stacey incident. But Claudia didn't want to think about that, so she pushed it from her mind. Putting down her charcoal and turning to Mary Anne, she asked, "What do you need help with?"

"I'm sorry to burst in on your like this," Mary Anne said, looking slightly embarrassed. "It's just…well, I needed someone to talk to. Someone who wasn't Dawn. And Kristy is impossible to have a normal conversation with these days."

"Yeah, no kidding," Claudia replied, thinking of how difficult Kristy had become. Any conversation with her over the past few years was businesslike and formal. "So what's up?"

"I'm just…in a rut."

"That's it? Mary Anne, I could have told you that you were in a rut for years. I thought something was seriously wrong!"

Mary Anne said sarcastically, "Thanks Claud. I mean, it is sort of important to me, you know."

"I'm just kind of weirded out, that's all. I mean, we've barely spoken in months, and you come running through my door."

"I love this song!" Mary Anne said, turning up the radio and dodging Claud's question. "So, can you help me or not?"

"I'm not agreeing with anything until you tell me what it is that you need me to do," Claud replied. Mary Anne started thumbing through Claud's closet, pulling out things that she liked.

"I need you to give me a makeover."

Claudia burst out laughing. "That's all this is about? I've wanted to give you a makeover for years." Immediately, she stopped dwelling on why Mary Anne showed up and became lost in the process. After all, she was lonely and could use a friend. Not that Mary Anne could ever fill Stacey's place, but she was happy to see her being friendly again, if a bit manic.

"So what do you want me to do?"

"Well, hair and makeup definitely. And maybe my clothes…I'm not sure what to do about them. I ripped them up a lot."

"Hmm… we can work with the ripped up, I think. Preppy can be cool if you do it in the right way. But let's do your hair first."

It was the ultimate girl's night in. Claud worked on makeup for a while, giving Mary Anne cast offs of makeup she had barely used. The hair was a bit trickier. "I cut Janine's hair all the time, though," Claud assured her. Mary Anne had a momentary vision of Janine's bowl cut and thick bangs and shuddered. "Not that I'll give you that same cut or anything."

She began working, quickly measuring and cutting off long chunks of dull brown hair. "This looks pretty good."

And it did. After twenty minutes, Mary Anne's hair was cut in a choppy, Ashlee Simpson looking bob. "I _love _it," Mary Anne breathed. Claudia released a sigh of relief that she didn't know she was holding in.

"So, what do you think? Should we dye it too?"

"Yes! Yes, we have to!"

"Okay," Claud said, pulling on her shoes. "Let's run to the store and pick out some color.

When they were done, Mary Anne's once-dull hair was a shiny blue-black. "It looks really, really good," Claudia commented.

"Thanks, Claud," Mary Anne whispered, twirling a newly shortened lock around her finger. "I absolutely love it. I feel so different."

Though Claudia had had her doubts that the night would end well, she had ended up having a good time. As Mary Anne let herself out of the room, she called, "Thanks again! Let's have lunch together tomorrow."

And although Claudia hated to admit it, what with Mary Anne's cold shoulder for as long as she could remember, she was really looking forward to lunch tomorrow.

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"The band is hot!" Stacey called to Laine, already halfway through her second martini. Lucky Strike had just taken the stage, and the girls pushed their way to get to the front of the crowd.

"Can you believe how crowded it is?" Laine screamed over the din.

"And hot!" Stacey added, trying to fan her drenched shirt over her sweaty skin.

The band launched into their second song, and Stacey was dancing before she even realized. Her cranberry drink sloshed the front of Laine's jeans, but she figured that Laine wouldn't care. She edged up even closer to the front and took a good look at the guys, drinking them in.

"I know that guy!" she shouted to Laine.

"What!"

"That guy, the lead singer. I met him once in California. His name is…I can't remember. He had some sort of goofy nickname."

Ducky took center stage and started yet another song. Laine licked her lips. "Now _he_ is on my agenda for tonight," she purred.

Stacey knew she had to call Dawn as soon as possible. But as she whipped out her cell phone, she realized that she had no service. Oh well. She'd have to remember to call her in the morning. But either way, she was going to have fun tonight.


	9. Chapter 9

_Author's Note: Thanks again, everyone, for the reviews and support. I'm having a blast writing this story. Please continue to give any comments, questions, critiques, etc. – I'm happy to receive them! Thanks!_

Claudia hadn't slept well the night before; this morning, she had hit the snooze button on her alarm six times before finally getting up. The prospect of merely getting up and getting dressed on so little sleep seemed impossible to even consider. As she rushed around the room, pulling on a pair of black dress pants, she was dismayed to see that they barely fit her anymore. Janine had always warned her that her junk food habits would catch up with her (and once even went so far as to make a chart that listed the chemical breakdowns of the additives in junk food, which Claudia quickly crumbled and promptly forgot about). Still, she never quite believed Janine; she always thought she had a quick metabolism and could eat all the Kit Kats that she wanted. So, even though the pants situation was dismaying, it didn't stop her from eating a Ding-Dong and some Fritos for breakfast.

She washed down her delicious meal with a Diet Coke, hoping to counteract some of the negative effects of the sugar. _Maybe I should start working out or something. Too bad Kristy won't talk to me, or I'd see if she would take me running with her._

Claud grabbed her multicolored book bag and ran down the stairs, stopping to grab a cinnamon roll for the walk to school. As she flew past her kitchen table, she stopped and did a double take. There, sitting with the Kishi family and reading the comics section of the paper was Alan.

"Hey Claud," he smiled at her, and she didn't know whether to punch him or hug him. "These are for you." He handed her a small bouquet of flowers, tied prettily with a large bow. "I even picked them out myself!"

"Thanks," she mumbled, trying to hide her embarrassment. Janine, already elated from finishing the _New York Times_ crossword puzzle before school, gave Claudia a suggestive wink. Though Janine was still the same genius that she always was, she had matured into a less dorky, less annoying one. And at Columbia, Janine was considered popular and sought after, mainly because her reputation preceded her.

"I have to go," she stuttered, pulling on a pair of pumps and fumbling for the doorknob.

"No kidding. That's why I'm here to give you a ride."

While dating, Claudia had found out that one of the reasons Alan was so immature was that he was self-conscious about being left back a grade in grade school. Ever since, he had had trouble fitting in with his classmates, so he tried to use his sense of humor to make friends, which worked for the most part. The other perk was that Alan had been the only sophomore allowed to take Driver's Ed, so he ended up having his license before anyone else.

"No thanks, I'm walking!" Claud decided.

Mrs. Kishi shook her head and frowned. "Alan drove all the way over and waited for you, Claudia Kishi. You will happily accept a car ride."

For some reason, her parents had always liked Alan. Sure, they found him to be a bit juvenile at times, but they thought he was a good match for their funky, creative daughter.

_If only they knew, _Claud thought to herself.

"Fine," she sighed. "Come on, Alan, let's go."

As they walked to his pickup truck, Alan tried to gallantly open Claud's door for her. "I've got it, Alan. Just get in."

As he pulled out of the driveway, he casually dropped his arm behind her seat to get a better vantage point. As his fingertips lightly brushed her hair, Claud felt a shiver as she remembered what Alan was like, before the Stacey incident.

"So, you're probably wondering why I picked today of all days to pick you up," Alan said.

"Not really," Claudia replied, feigning disinterest.

"Claudia, I'm going to be honest with you. Whatever you saw, whatever you thought about me and Stacey, well…it wasn't what you think. And nothing happened, I swear. I never had any interest in her, other than friends."

"Let's not talk about this," she replied.

"No, let's. We have to, Claud. We're supposed to be together."

Claudia sat in silence, flashing back to the day that she caught Alan and Stacey together. She was supposed to meet up with Stacey at the mall but thought that she could surprise her at her house instead. She had just painted this fabulous new painting of New York and wanted to surprise her with it, knowing how much that Stacey had missed the city. As she let herself into the McGill house, she could hear insistent whispers coming from Stacey's room.

When she walked in, she found Stacey lying on her bed, with Alan right next to her. They both sat up quickly, fumbling for words. Horrified, Claudia had soundlessly run out of the house. Her biggest regret was that she didn't come up with some sort of snappy comeback, but she reminded herself that she was never quick with words. Why would anything change as she was getting her heart ripped out?

After two days of incessant calls and messages, Claudia finally answered Stacey's call. She wanted to tell off her best friend and be done with this. She pushed aside the mounds of candy wrappers and pulled out a list of things that she wanted to say to Stacey, but all she could concentrate on were Stacey's tears.

"Claud, you have to listen to me. _Please_," she murmured.

"I really don't have anything to say to you."

"You don't have to say anything, just listen. When Alan showed up at my house the other day, I thought he was just coming by to talk to me about you. I mean, I know you guys were having problems, and I thought I could help. I was cleaning my room, so I invited him to come upstairs with me. But as soon as we started talking, he tried to kiss me.

Claud, he forced himself on me. I tried to push him off, but he's a big guy. He tried to tell me he was lonely and needed me and was attracted to me, and I didn't know what to do. But I didn't want to kiss him. Then you came in, and –"

Claudia hung up the phone. She had heard all that she wanted to hear. However, she did crumble her list of frustrations.

It took her weeks, months, just to get back on speaking terms with Stacey. Of course, their relationship had revived itself a bit since Stacey moved. But now, with Alan trying to get back into her life, Claudia found herself angry all over again.

"Claudia?" Alan asked, snapping her back into reality.

"What?" she snapped, momentarily dismayed as she remembered that she was riding in his car.

"I was asking you a question."

"Fine."

"Have I ever lied to you?"

Claudia thought back. Through the course of their relationship, she had never caught Alan in any sort of lie. If anything, he was brutally honest. She thought that this might be the reason that he and Kristy had alternated from getting along well to butting heads. "What does that have to do with anything?"

"Look, this has been bothering me for ages. After you walked in at Stacey's, you only listened to her side of the story. You never returned my calls, never even bothered to try and listen to me. So, I needed to get you alone to tell you what really happened that day."

He paused and sighed. "Stacey called me and invited me over that day. She told me that she had plans with you later but that I should stop by so that she could give me some relationship advice. I was going to get you a present for our anniversary, and I thought she could give me some ideas. While I was over there, she started flirting with me. Hardcore, Claudia. Telling me I was cute, asking me how she had never noticed me before, you know. The next thing I knew, she was tackling me onto her bed and kissing me. And then you showed up."

Claudia just stared at him incredulously.

"I know what it looked like, and I know you would take her side over mine any day. But I thought that you needed to know the truth. Claudia, Stacey McGill isn't who you think she is anymore. She's small and conniving. New York is still too close for her to live."

Claud hadn't even noticed that they had pulled up at school. "And that's the truth, Claud. Take it as you will. But I thought you needed to know what sorts of people you were aligning yourself with."

Alan gave her a soft kiss on the cheek and got out of the car, shoulders slumping as he walked.

What was she even supposed to think of this? Stacey, her best friend? There was no way. But as she thought of how Stacey had changed over the past two years, she hesitated. Maybe there was some truth to what Alan was saying. But Claudia didn't have time to think. Mary Anne, looking better than she ever had in her life, was waving Claudia over.

Claud knew she should talk to someone about this, but now was not the time. Instead, she hugged her friend and prayed that this newfound friendship would prove to be strong.

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Mallory Pike positively cackled as she furiously typed on her laptop. This was her time to shine. She would show Kristy once and for all how her belittling had affected Mal and Jessi all of these years.

When the BSC first began, Mallory felt the isolation that came with being a younger member. She felt ostracized and alone. Often, the club members pointed out that she wasn't much older than some of their charges. So she developed ways of coping and pretending that she loved being a group member.

What the BSC didn't know is that Mal had cataloged all of their meetings from the time she became a member. What began as a personal journal quickly turned into a slam book denoting all the crimes and atrocities that Mal believed the club had committed. Of course, she had embellished some of the details, but who was to know?

Since there was such a rise of tell-all books in the publishing world, Mal thought that her writings had a chance. Writing under a pen name, she planned to send her "fictional" tale of babysitting gone wrong and babysitters gone wild to as many publishing companies as possible. Of course, she'd change all the names, but the guilty parties would know who they were.

Mal giggled to herself again as she read over her supposedly fictional friends. There was Misty Thompson, the bossy bitch who might secretly be a man, based on the clothes she wore (though no boy would ever dare find out). Carrie Lynn Spears, a baby who was years behind in development and would never give it up to her boyfriend, who suffered a permanent case of blue balls. Tracy Lill, a snobby (but please, call her "sophisticated") New Yorker who only used her math skills to add up her shopping bills and used her medical condition to get non-stop attention. Sky Smith, who just might self-destruct from eating anything with meat (though Mal had laughed a few times to herself when she switched Dawn's boca burger with the real thing). And Cloud Hu, who played up her minority status and had a serious eating disorder that was just beginning to catch up with her.

However, Mal and Jessi came out on top, of course. "Stephie" was a beautiful gymnast, heading for the pros, if only the stupid club would stop scheduling her for so many jobs and would give her a chance to practice. Stephie's struggle was outlined poignantly, with her getting home late at night from sitting and doing tour jetes and twirls while holding a textbook. The rest of the club's preoccupancy with race was also highlighted, as the other girls in the club always seemed to pinch themselves as a reminder that Jessi was black.

Of course, Mal came out sounding the best of all. She described her gorgeous cascading locks, beautiful smiles, and sparkling eyes brilliantly. At least she thought so. And she mentioned how the others always looked down upon her because she was younger, yet she was significantly more mature than the other girls, a better babysitter, and a better worker. She was trying to think of ways to get copies of the girls' report cards so that she could add those in as well.

For the longest time, Mal had been having a severe case of writer's block. She would stare at her computer, knowing that something was missing. Sure, she had highlighted all of the ridiculous club events that she had participated in over the years. She had gone to great lengths to describe the girls, but there was one thing she lacked: more insight.

However, babysitting with Kristy the other night had changed everything. Now Mal had a new direction to take her prose. After Kristy had tried to out Mal, Mal paid close attention to Kristy. She noticed the ace bandage wrappings on her arm and the casual way that Kristy had been picking at them; from this, she thought she could reveal to the world the depths of Kristy's psychological traumas.

But no, what she got that night was even better. As Mal had hugged Kristy, she had casually reached into Kristy open tote bag and grabbed whatever notebook was in reach. Even if it was chemistry notes, she wanted to try to get a sense of Kristy. But what she had was even better.

Specifically, she didn't need to have Kristy. She could have easily focused on any of the club members. But Kristy was the club originator. When Adam broke his arm and Mal needed an extra sitter, she had hoped for Kristy. She knew it would add more depth to her story than she could have anticipated.

Mal kept typing, faster and faster. She wanted to have this done by tonight so that she could start sending it out first thing in the morning. And as she thumbed through Kristy Thomas's secret journal (dating back from 8th grade, which was perfect), she mused that maybe it was finally her own chance to shine.


	10. Chapter 10

_Author's Note: Sorry about the lack of updates; school started and I got ridiculously busy! Thanks again for all of the reviews and comments – always appreciated! _

As the alarm blared in her ear, Stacey sleepily wondered how long she'd been out. Even better, she wondered what time she had finally stumbled in the night before. She looked at the time and groaned – there was no way she was going to make it to school on time. Plus, she felt terrible. So instead of getting ready, she called her dad and asked him to call her in sick. It worked every time. Her dad felt so bad about never spending time with her that he would do anything that she asked for.

She rolled over and stretched, pulling her pink comforter over her head. Her chemistry notes were crumbled around her, and she glanced over them once more, trying to make sense.

_I used to be a great student_, she thought. _I should understand this. _

Although she knew that she could figure out how to work the problems out, she just couldn't bring herself to sit down and focus. Instead, she reached next to her and lazily tested her blood sugar. It was surprisingly low, 128, which was amazing compared with how much she had ended up drinking the night before. She tried not to vomit at the thought of it, and her stomach did a frightening roll that brought her back to the night before.

She really, really hadn't planned on her behaviors the previous night. Stacey McGill was not a party girl at heart. She was mature, sophisticated, and occasionally studious (though her recent scholarly efforts were nothing to brag about).

Something had entered her mind the night before though. As she was leaning over the toilet to throw up the apple and carrot sticks that she ate for dinner, she realized that the girl she was in Stoneybrook was someone who was never going to be around again. In Stoneybrook, Stacey had had the best of both worlds. Since she was from New York and not a small town, she had the right degree of worldliness that students respected (well, some might consider her snobby, put that was par for the course). At the same time, she was just a short train ride away from the city and a single dad, thus upping the probability that he would shower her with gifts and money every time she came to visit. So, Stacey was inevitably the best dressed girl on account of her parents' divorce. She participated in a gratifying cycle that allowed her to up her cool potential every time she went to the city and came back laden with Bloomingdale's bags.

But that was Stoneybrook. In New York, Stacey was on the fringes. She was constantly surrounded by girls who sized her up. Girls who wore the same outfits as her, yet sometimes in sizes like 00. Girls who got their hair done at Frederic Fekkai (or better yet, had Frederic come to their houses on special appointments). Maybe Stoneybrook used to be jealous of Stacey, but now Stacey was experiencing some of the same envy herself.

_Is this what it really comes down to?_ she had asked herself. _Alone in a loft apartment with one friend, who's disappeared somewhere to try and score with some guy she knows?_ She choked back a sob. Getting sick always made her cry.

_I'm so pathetic_, she thought to herself. _Look at me. Look at this_. As she looked around the room, she took in the trendy décor, all metallic edges and mirrors. She traced some residue off the countertop, hoping that it wasn't cocaine and was rather just a trace of some girl's pressed powder. Wiping her eyes and rinsing her mouth, she decided to throw herself back into the party. After all, how much more fun could she possibly end up having in the bathroom?

She pushed open the door, surprised that a line hadn't formed outside of it. But from the looks of the room, the party was beginning to clear out for the evening. She didn't even know what time it was.

"Stacey, come here!" Laine called from across the room. "Come sit with my friend!" Laine herself was already ensconced in the lap of Dawn's friend, whose name still escaped her.

Looking incredibly uncomfortable, the guy gave Stacey a tentative wave. "Come on over and join the party," he said awkwardly.

"You know, I know you from somewhere," Stacey said mischievously.

"You do?" he asked.

"Where, from your dreams?" Laine cackled. "He's such a s_tuuuuuuuuuuud_." Though Laine could often be eloquent outside of parties, shots of tequila didn't make her the most pleasant company.

The guy continued to look uncomfortable and twirled a lock of his shaggy hair around his finger. "I thought you looked familiar too," he continued. "Where do I know you from?"

Laine leaned over, clutching the front of his button –down shirt. She was already spilling out of her own top, and Stacey debated if she should tell her that she was about to commit a serious wardrobe malfunction. _Nah_, she decided, _let her humiliate herself._

As he politely removed Laine from his lap, he gestured over to Stacey. "Please, sit down."

"You're Dawn's friend. I'm sorry, but I can't remember your name."

Laine tugged suggestively on his hair and began whispering quietly in his ear. "It's Ducky," he reminded her. "And you are… Stacey?"

"Good memory!" she congratulated him. Laine continued her manipulation of Ducky; her new maneuvers included rubbing his thigh and suggestively layering on lip gloss.

"You're going to have to stop that now, sorry," Ducky said to Laine. A shocked look came across her face, and before she could respond, Ducky was grabbing Stacey's hand and leading her across the room.

"That was kind of rude, what you did to my friend," Stacey said as he pulled her away.

"Well, what she did was kind of rude to me."

"Apparently you don't enjoy being groped by the likes of Laine Cummings?"

"Not so much. She's not really my type."

_Laine would be surprised to hear that; it wasn't often that she got turned down_, Stacey thought. "So what brings you all the way to New York?"

Ducky paused. "It was time for a change, you know? It's like in California, things were so static. Nothing ever changed. But out here, it's different. I mean, I can walk down the street and be completely invisible if I want; on other days, I can get as much attention as I need. It's a different aesthetic."

Stacey was intrigued. She could see Laine pouting and motioning to her to sit with her again, but she wanted to continue this conversation. "So you chose New York because…?"

"Well, mainly because in Palo Alto, I felt like there was a giant sign that said 'fag' across my back."

Momentarily taken aback, Stacey reeled at the tidbit of information that Ducky had given to her. "Well, that makes a lot more sense now," thinking back to Laine.

"Can you do me a favor? Can you not tell Dawn that you ran into me tonight? She and I have been having some difficulties, so I would really appreciate it if you could leave out seeing me. Oh, and don't mention that I'm in a band either."

Again, Stacey was puzzled. But she was also tipsy, so she easily agreed not to mention anything. _I probably won't even remember most of tonight_, she thought, slightly giddy. She turned to head back to Laine, who had already moved on to the next available (and potentially straight) band member.

"And Stacey? I wouldn't have hooked up with your friend anyway," Ducky said, winking at her. "Trust me, if I had any interest in the female persuasion, you would be much more my type." With that, he left the room without attracting much attention.

The night ended shortly after, with Laine taking off with the bass player and Stacey left to find her own cab. She returned home without waking her dad and lounged in bed, which brought her up to the current moment.

Well. If she was going to take the day off, she might as well do something productive. Again, she picked up her chemistry notes.

_I can do this. I can do this._

But she couldn't. No matter how many times she tried to figure out the equations, she couldn't. It was probably a combination of not paying attention in class and missing so much to begin with, but Stacey was far behind. She felt like crying and realized she might as well. There was no one there to stop her, to judge her, to ask her what was wrong. As she sobbed, one thought kept crossing her mind:

_This is not the life I chose for myself._

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On Friday morning, Kristy felt better than she could remember feeling in the past few months. She woke up half an hour before her alarm was even set to go off. She felt surprisingly lighter and full of energy, which would be great to use at Krushers practice that afternoon. She slipped her bag over her shoulders and headed out the door to the bus, but Sam grabbed her arm. "Need a ride to school" he asked, slipping her a Pop Tart.

"I think I'm going to run there today, actually." While this was generally not a great idea because of the distance, Kristy was excited to use this newfound energy. Maybe she could even consider trying out for the track team if she got into good enough shape.

She burst out the door, starting with a slow pace. Her muscle ached, and she could swear that she head them creaking as she moved. A light sweat began to form on her brow, and she brushed her bangs out of her face, not wanting to show up at school looking like a total wreck.

As she crossed through town, she marveled at her change in mood. She hadn't had the urge to cut herself at all the day before, and she even completed all of her homework. _Maybe I need to keep busy. Maybe constant motion is what helps to get me through the days_.

She thought back to the night before and the whirlwind of the trip to the Pike's house. She should really call Mallory to ask if Adam was okay.

But then she remembered Mal, and Jessi, and the IM, and the creepy, manipulative way that Mallory spoke of Jessi. _All Mallory Pike wants to do is to get ahead_, Kristy thought, _and she doesn't care who's in her path_.

"Hey Kristy!" a voice called.

Kristy couldn't have felt less surprised when she saw Mallory standing in front of her. Her arms were piled high with manila envelopes. Again, Kristy took note of Mal's appearance: frumpy sweater, a cascade of tangled curls, and what Claudia would refer to as "mom jeans." Kristy knew that she was no judge of fashion, but Mal generally looked atrocious, and today was no exception.

"You look busy, Mal," Kristy responded. "What's that? Your story about Jessi?"

"Something like that," Mal replied snidely.

"So, how's Adam?"

"Adam? He's fine. He's already begging to play outside with his brothers. You should see the poem that Vanessa wrote him. And Claire is just obsessed with all of his casts and medicines."

This was the kind of conversation that Kristy was used to having with Mal. When they talked about their babysitting charges, they could go on for hours. It was just when they started speaking about personal situations that the tensions began to flare.

"Well, I should get going. Oh, Kristy, before I forget – you left this at my house last night!" Mal handed her the black and white speckled composition book that Kristy knew so well.

Her journal? How could she have left her journal at Mal's house? She never took it outside of her bedroom! But as she looked back, she remembered grabbing a pile of books off the desk in haste as she rushed to get ready. She could feel her mood sinking at the thought of Mal reading her most private thoughts and sentiments. As she mentally categorized what she had written in her journal, all she could think of was that she wouldn't want anyone to read those thoughts, especially not Mallory Pike.

"Don't worry. I didn't read it or anything. Once I realized what it was, I put it down and didn't touch it again. After all, as a writer, I know how personal others' thoughts can be."

Something about Mal's rambling explanation didn't sit well with Kristy, but she figured that she would just have to accept it. "Well, thanks for returning this. I didn't even realize this was missing."

"Anytime!" Mal said with a wave. "Well, I better be off. I have to get to the mailbox and send these documents out as soon as possible. I want to get them straight to New York as soon as possible.

"Well, good luck on that. Hope you win the contest," Kristy said half-heartedly, still thinking about what Mallory Pike could have possibly read in her journal.

When Mal was about a block away, she called back to Kristy, "Hey, how's your brother, Sam?"

"Oh he's fine, why?"

"Oh nothing. I just heard that he wasn't doing well and was on a little _vacation_," she said, with a special emphasis on the last word. And with that, Mal entered the post office, leaving Kristy clutching her trusty notebook in stunned silence.

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Mary Anne knew she looked hot. She could tell by the way her parents wouldn't say anything to her at the kitchen table. She could tell by the way that Dawn checked her out, trying to figure out what had happened. She could also tell by the way the bus driver had leered at her out the school window, or by how Pete Black had slapped her ass on the way to class.

Unlike her last makeover, Mary Anne didn't care how others reacted to her. _This is something I needed to do for me_, she kept reminding herself. This time, she felt confident. With Claudia's help, she had started to become the girl (_no, woman_, she corrected herself) that she had always wanted to be.

_Let Dawn do whatever she wants to from now on,_ she told herself. _Sharon is no longer my problem. _

As Mary Anne approached the school, she could see Claudia coming in from the opposite direction. "Hey Claud," she waved, trying to appear calm and collected, not like the little-girl Mary Anne that would have shyly begged for attention.

"Hey," Claud said, looking momentarily troubled. "You look hot today, Mary Anne," she said, brightening slightly.

"So what are you doing tonight?"

"Well…I might do something with Trevor Sandbourne. How come?"

"Maybe do you want to double with Logan and me?" The words were out before Mary Anne even considered what she was asking. After all, wasn't this what had almost ruined their friendship before?

"Sure, I'd love that," Claudia replied, grateful for the invitation. It would be so much easier for her to get her mind off of Alan if there were three other people around her all night.

"Awesome!" Mary Anne replied, using a word that she usually detested. "I'll talk to you more at lunch." As she sauntered off, she managed to perfect a sort of strut that she hoped looked attractive.

Logan was waiting at her locker. As she approached, his jaw dropped appreciatively. "Damn, Mary Anne," he drawled. "You look good enough to eat."

"Are you suggesting…"

Normally, Mary Anne would have put a stop to this banter between the two of them. But this was new Mary Anne. She stepped outside of herself and wrapped her arms around his neck. "Things are going to change around here," she whispered to him.

Indeed, they were. She had no idea what was coming next, but she knew that it was going to be good.


	11. Chapter 11

_Hi everyone! Thanks for your patience with me – I've just started a new job, new classes, and picked up extra shifts at work, so I'm super busy. But bear with me…I plan to update at least once a week from now on, hopefully more. As always, thanks for all of the reviews and comments – everything is always appreciated!_

Dawn hadn't quite taken to Mary Anne's new look as much as her stepsister had anticipated. When she had come down to the table, the only thing that Dawn could think was, _Oh no, not again._

Mary Anne went through stages like this all the time. Dawn often caught her flipping through _Vogue_, tearing out pictures of girls who she wanted to look like at some point in time. Once, she had even gone so far as to put together a scrap book of looks to try out; she had also considered asking Stacey to take her shopping in New York. But something always stopped her; something always kept drawing her back to the loafers and pleated skirts that she was so used to.

Dawn also hated to admit that she was a snoop. Originally, she had tried to label herself as a thief, but the only thing that she really stole were Mary Anne's thoughts and feelings. Apparently her stepsister had quite the grudge against her but was too afraid to ever say anything. On countless occasions, Dawn had tried to ask Mary Anne how she felt about something, and Mary Anne would sniffle, bat her eyelashes, and head up to her room, probably to scribble notes in the notebook that she didn't hide well (_come on, everyone knows about under the mattress. One would think that after all of these years of hanging out with Claudia and her junk food stash that she would be more prone to finding creative hiding spots)._

As Dawn sat in the secret passageway before leaving for school, she again mulled over Mary Anne's new look. It wasn't that she didn't appreciate the change in her stepsister; it was just that she didn't like how she went about it. How come Mary Anne could never have a makeover that wasn't a secret? And why did she always have to change so drastically. Deep down, Dawn knew that Mary Anne was no different, especially through reading her journal.

She flipped through the most recent entry, smiling at Mary Anne's doodles in the margins. The smiley faces and squiggles that dotted the margins were the true essence of Mary Anne. It was hard to get mad at her when she could see her reduced to such a pure form. She only had a few moments before leaving, but she flipped back through earlier entries quickly. Just as she was about to head back into the house, her mother's name caught her eye. Quickly, she set her things down and entered Mary Anne's psyche:

_It happened again tonight. Of course, this wasn't nearly as bad as the last time. I mentioned something about Dawn writing me a letter, and Sharon went off on another tirade about how I always get letters and she always gets nothing. I reminded her that Dawn had just called her the night before, but she was convinced that Dawn was calling for me. Then she smashed the dish that she was washing and went back up to her room, mumbling to herself again about she never should have had kids._

_I just don't know how my dad puts up with this. I can't take it much longer. I wish there was anywhere I could go besides here. Dawn's lucky – she's here for a month and never has to be around Sharon all the time. Most of the time, she gets off with a quick vacation and a few family trips. When she's in California, she just calls once in a while or sends a postcard._

_I don't know how much longer I can do this._

As that entry cut off, Dawn knew she had to leave for school. But she couldn't tear her eyes off of the next page, where Mary Anne wrote an entry for the following day:

_Sharon apologized to me last night. She said she didn't mean any of the things she said, but I didn't believe her. I tried telling her how upset it makes me that she competes with me over Dawn, but she wouldn't listen. Instead, she brushed my hair out of my eyes and kissed me on the forehead. I wanted to punch her. I wanted to run screaming out of the room. But the last thing that I wanted to do was have her touch me._

_Of course, Dad won't do anything about this. He thinks that I don't notice when he takes more and more hours at work, coming home later and later. He thinks that I can't tell that he's distancing himself from Sharon and me. He thinks I can't see the lipstick that I noticed on his collar once, or the way that he showers as soon as he gets home from "work." He thinks I don't see._

_He thinks I don't see because he can't see me._

As Dawn placed the notebook down, she knew that she had to get out of Stoneybrook – the sooner the better. She raced to Mary Anne's room and replaced the book, not caring if she messed up the perfectly made linens. All she knew was that her being in California had started this situation; maybe it was time to go back to where she belonged. She'd already caused so much destruction, and there was absolutely nothing she could do to fix it.

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Mallory couldn't believe how many boys were checking her out as she made her way to the post office. She knew she looked good – she had even picked out her best jeans for the occasion! As one guy gave her a wide grin, she winked back. For once, Mal didn't hate boys, not at all.

The line at the post office was moving quickly for once, but it was still not fast enough for Mal. She tapped her foot impatiently, attracting the attention of the lone customer ahead of her.

"Hey!" the girl responded, giving Mal a big smile. "How've you been?"

It took Mal a second to place her. She hadn't seen Shannon Kilbourne in two years, not since she had decided to spend more time on her extracurricular activities. As always, the familiar twinge of jealousy hit Mal as she checked out Shannon. _Someday, _she vowed, _I'll have blonde hair and a nose job and a nice bag for my laptop and a mansion_.

Normally, Mal was pretty standoffish in public. She thought that it helped to give her a mysterious writer's edge, and she dreamed of the day that she could become a recluse like Harper Lee. But until then, she had to at least attempt to be social once in a while. And since this was such a special day for her, she turned to Shannon and began a conversation. "Wow, you look great!" she exclaimed, hoping her usual jealousy didn't show too much.

Shannon gave Mal the once over as well. "Thanks! And you look nice, too. Those jeans are really…cool. Love the tapered. And did you embroider your name on them yourself?"

"Yep!" Mal said proudly. "I love embroidering, and it kind of reminded me of this jumper I used to have with my name on it. Of course, this is much cooler," she said, searching for approval.

Shannon turned her head briefly away to stifle a chuckle. She was hoping that Mallory wouldn't be making her "Shannon" jeans any time in the near future, or anything with her name on it for that matter.

"Well, I should go," Shannon said as the teller called her name.

"Wait! Wait!" Mal called. "Want to wait for me? We can walk together. We're heading in practically the same direction!"

"Oh, I drove today," Shannon replied, beginning to get frustrated with the conversation. She practically had to bite her lip to keep her from offering Mal a ride. She knew it would be the polite thing to do, and she was raised better than her actions of the day, but she couldn't stand to be near Mallory Pike for one more instant.

"Could I have a ride?" Mal shouted, sounding a bit panicky. "It's just that we've been in line for so long, I'm afraid that I'll be late for school."

Shannon sighed and tried to hide it. "Of course," she responded. "I was just about to offer you one anyway."

"Great! Just wait for me outside. I know your car."

As Mal waited in her respective spot in line, she smiled to herself. Shannon had been the hardest of the sitters to get access to for her work because she was never around, and she and Mal had never been close. This was her chance. _ Don't blow this_, she reminded herself. She wiped her palms on her jeans, barely noticing that she was smudging ink all over her great outfit. _Just another day of a writer's life,_ she told herself.

As she finally approached the counter, she smiled at the clerk. "I need these documents to go to New York. As soon as possible, please."

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Stacey couldn't even contend with the phone ringing all morning. Every time it did, she stuffed her head under the pillow for a little longer and willed it to stop. She hadn't been able to reach her dad on his cell phone that morning, so she wasn't sure if he had called her in to school or not. She figured it was the secretary trying to check up on her. _Please, please, stop ringing_, she thought. She figured that with the amount of hanging up, the call must be a wrong number.

An hour later, though, Stacey couldn't deal with it anymore. She glanced at the caller ID and was slightly horrified to see that the number was from a nearby hospital. "Hello?" she answered, wondering if there were some test results that she had forgotten about.

"Ms. McGill?" an unfamiliar voice said. "This is Carolyn calling from St. Francis hospital. Your father asked us to call you."

"My dad? What? Is everything okay?"

"Ms. McGill, we need to see you down here as soon as possible. How long do you think it will take you to get here?"

"Um…I don't…I don't drive. I don't have anyone to take me there."

"I can call a cab for you," Carolyn said, her voice softening. "It will be up in front of your place as soon as possible. We'll see you in a bit."

"Is my dad…is he okay?"

"Ms. McGill, I really can't release those details over the phone. A doctor will speak with you as soon as you get here."

Stacey ran around her room, throwing on the first outfit that she could find. For once, she didn't care about labels. As she ran out the door, she could hear the phone ringing and Laine leaving her a message: "Hey slut, thanks for going after my guy last night. But that's okay, the rest of the band was great. Very hospitable. I'll chat with your more later. Bye, beyotch!"

She had the urge to grab the machine and break it into a thousand pieces. But there was no time. She grabbed her purse and ran downstairs to wait for the cab. _Please, please be okay, _ she willed. _Daddy, please be okay. I need you._

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Kristy was dying to run to the bathroom, take out the X Acto knife she had borrowed from Ashley, and relieve some of her pain. But she was trying to be stronger than that. She willed herself to walk past the bathroom, rationalizing that it would be crowded in the morning and near impossible to get in there without anyone noticing.

Her conversation with Mallory was weighing heavily on her mind. How could Mal possibly have known about Sam? Even though she claimed that she hadn't read Kristy's journal, how would she have known? And hadn't Mal pretty much come out and admitted her guilt?

Kristy barely noticed as she bumped into Mary Anne in the hallway. "Sorry," she called, failing to recognize her friend.

"Hey, Kristy," Mary Anne called, waving. Though things weren't okay between the two of them yet, Kristy had the highest hope for staying friends with Mary Anne. They could get through anything together.

"No…Mary Anne, is that you? I thought you were Cokie. You know how she looks different every two weeks."

"It's me!" Mary Anne said gleefully. "Do you like it?"

To be honest, Kristy didn't. But she didn't want to hurt her friend's feelings, especially since she was so sensitive; it's not like they were on the best grounds either. So instead of doing the usual Kristy Thomas number and telling it like it was, she choked back her dislike and said, "You look awesome!"

"Thanks! Claudia helped me last night. She even cut my hair. I think she might be able to do this for a living some day."

Kristy didn't want to talk about Claudia or the fact that her other friends had gotten over the demise of the BSC so quickly. So instead, she changed the subject. "Do you have any plans for tomorrow? We're having a party tomorrow at my house, me, Sam and Shannon. Do you want to come?"

"Sure! Is it okay if I bring Logan?"

"Sure, bring whoever you want," Kristy said. "Seriously, the more the merrier. I need something like this to get my mind off of things."

The bell rang, interrupting their conversation. "Hey, can I call you later? I had this weird talk with Mallory Pike and I kind of want to talk about it with someone."

"Mallory Pike? Weird, I haven't talked to her in ages. But sure, we can talk later! Just give me a call after school. I should be around for a while," Mary Anne replied, smiling flirtatiously at a group of basketball players.

_Mary Anne is so weird_, Kristy thought to herself. But she pushed that thought out of her mind as she entered her first classroom. She made it halfway through the class before she realized that her need to cut herself was completely gone. In fact, she felt completely okay. _Maybe I'm on the road to recovery, finally_.

Kristy had never really been able to figure out why she started this self-abuse. She always tried to rationalize it in her mind. _At least I'm not anorexic_, she would think as she looked at Stacey in her tiny jeans. _At least I'm not a compulsive eater_, she would think as she saw Claudia shove Ho-Hos down her throat. The list went on and on. Kristy could easily cross off the things that she wasn't, but she could never admit what she was.

But even though Mal knew about Sam somehow, she wasn't going to worry about it today. Today was going to change everything. Today was the first time she had been able to control her addiction. She flexed her legs and stretched them out in front of her desk. _Today is the first day of the rest of my life_, she thought, and almost laughed at how Mary Anne-ish that sounded.


	12. Chapter 12

Shannon couldn't imagine a more awkward car ride. Mallory had plopped in, her arms full of receipts for the insurance that she had put on her packages, and had promptly begun to flip through Shannon's preset radio stations. This was a pet peeve of Shannon's, as she always believed that the driver should be in control of what everyone else was listening to. Once she had found a station, Mallory had turned the volume down and had begun to shoot questions at her.

"So how do you feel about he BSC officially disbanding?" Mallory asked as she rooted through her bag.

"Well…okay, I guess. It doesn't really affect me much. I haven't officially been a member in years. I mean, it was really only a matter of time, right?"

"Exactly. High school must be so busy, huh?"

Shannon raised her eyebrows. "It's not really that different. I've always been super involved in things, so it hasn't really changed that much for me."

"Do you miss babysitting at all?"

Shannon was beginning to wonder about all of the questions. The last thing she had thought as she had agreed to give Mallory a ride is that she would ask questions the whole way to school. Maybe this hadn't been such a good idea after all.

"Well, I babysit some of the kids in the neighborhood sometimes, but most of them are older now and stay home by themselves after school. Or they go over to a friend's house. I know that Kristy's family goes over to the Papadakises a lot; they have some sort of arrangement."

Mallory was silent, and Shannon began to think that she was done with all of the questioning. But then she questioned, "So what's with you and Sam Thomas? You two have been together for a while, right?"

Normally, with any other person, Shannon would gush about Sam. Ever since he had gone to rehab and worked out his issues, he'd become one of the people who knew her the best. But this was not a subject she wanted to speak to Mallory Pike about. "Yes, we have. It's been a while." She quickly turned the corner and prayed that she wouldn't hit any red lights.

Mallory fiddled with her fringed backpack (_My Lord_, thought Shannon, _where does she find these things? I know she wanted to dress more grown up for all these years, but she's committing more faux pas than when Claudia used to bake dough into earrings!)_ and groaned loudly. "Ugh, I am so sick of school. I can't wait to be done and just become a writer. I mean, I don't even need half of the stuff we're working on in there to do what I want to do."

Shannon tried to avoid rolling her eyes. "Oh yeah? And what would you change if you could?"

"Well, gym is terrible. There's no point in me even participating. I'm never going to be good a volleyball. And math? Come on! Like any writer is ever going to use math."

"Well gee, Mal, how will you be able to check your finances after all of your big book advances?" Shannon hadn't meant to be sarcastic, but the words slipped out of her mouth before she could stop them.

"Please, that's what I'll have an accountant for. Maybe I can hire Stacey!"

Shannon couldn't remember feeling this miserable in a long time. She began to bargain with herself: if Mal shuts up, she wouldn't turn the radio any louder. If Mal doesn't mention the BSC again, she'll let herself splurge on an ice cream. Anything would help her get through to car ride.

"So I'm working on a new project!" Mal said excitedly. "Want to hear about it?"

Shannon breathed a sigh of relief when she realized they were in front of the school. "I'd love to, Mal, but I have to head back to my school. I'll catch up with you another time, okay?"

"Sure! Call me! Here, give me your number!" she said excitedly, whipping out her sticker covered cell phone. Shannon couldn't believe how many things Mal owned that had her name on them. This was worse than putting your name in your clothes at camp.

Shannon quickly gave Mal her number, contemplating if she should give her a fake. _No_, she reasoned, _I can always dodge her calls. _

"Bye, Shannon!" Mal called over her shoulder as she ran into the building. As soon as Shannon began to head to school, she could feel a sense of ease washing over her. _Man, I'm glad I don't have to see her often_, she thought as she drove away.

Shannon hoped that was the last that she would see of her new BFF Mallory Pike for quite some time. But of course, Mal always had a way of showing up where she wasn't invited. _Hopefully, I can keep avoiding her for as long as possible. After all, it was just a car ride. It was a nice thing to do. So now, Mal should have had her fill of me for quite some time_.

She didn't even see Mallory writing down her license plate number or scribbling in her notebook as she left. Mal smiled widely as she stuck a small plastic bag into her pocket, amazed at what a short car ride with Shannon Kilbourne could turn up. _My life has never been better_, Mal thought to herself.

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"Is there any possible way you can speed up?" Stacey shouted at the cab driver, who smiled at her apologetically.

"I wish there was something I could do, miss. But the street is blocked all the way down because of the situation this morning. Is it an emergency?"

Stacey didn't even bother to reply. "I'll walk!" she cried, throwing a handful of cash at the cabbie. She grabbed her bag and bolted, not even caring that she was running down a busy street in her pajamas.

"Good luck, miss!" the driver called to her from the window.

With her feet throbbing from the shoes she had thrown on, Stacey continued to race down the street, bumping into people and not apologizing. Her dad was sick, or hurt, she didn't know, and she had to get to him as soon as possible. _It's probably a heart attack. He works so hard, and for what? To let me go out all the time? I barely see him._

As she finally pushed through the doors at the hospital, she rushed the admissions desk. "I'm Stacey McGill…my dad…I mean…I need to talk to someone about him. A nurse called…I think her name was Carol?"

"Carolyn? That's me, honey," a friendly looking woman said. "How are you?"

Stacey wanted to get past the pleasantries. "How's my dad? What happened?"

"Sweetie, I'm going to need you to sit in those chairs over there while I page a doctor for you. I can't give you any information about his condition. Frankly, I don't know what happened, so I'm going to leave you in the hands of someone who does." She guided Stacey by the arm to a bank of chairs and gestured for her to sit down. "Honey, the doctor will be here as soon as possible, okay?"

Stacey felt numb. She just wanted to know if her dad was okay. And then she wanted to go back to sleep for a few days. She sat back in her chair and flipped through a copy of _Highlights_, not even bothering to try and solve the picture puzzle.

"You okay?" a guy sitting next to her asked. Stacey turned to look at him. He was cute, she mused, and she would have liked to talk to him on any other day but today. "Yep," she replied, and buried her head back into her magazine, pretending to be entranced by the science experience and make-your-own birdhouse.

"I'm Keith," he said, holding out his hand.

"Stacey," she replied, again trying to ignore him as much as possible.

"So why are you here, Stacey?" he asked softly.

"Is it possible that you could leave me alone?" she snapped. "My dad's here, and I don't know what's going on. I just…I need to be alone for a while."

Keith looked worriedly back at her. "Stacey, I'll get as much information as I can. I'm a grief counselor. I thought a doctor had talked to you already."

Stacey's heart flopped a few times. "You mean…my dad?" As she tried to finish her thought, she could already feel her knees going weak.

Keith got up and walked quickly to the front desk. He spoke quietly to Carolyn, gesturing towards Stacey and looking pointedly in her direction. Carolyn shook her head and looked aggravated.

_So this is why everyone's being so nice to me. Every other time I've been to a hospital, no one has paid this much attention to me._

"Stacey?" Carolyn said. "I'm sorry."

"So you knew. You knew this whole time. And you didn't tell me. Why?"

"Honey, look. I can't tell you anything because that's the doctor's job. I wasn't in the surgery ward with him, and I wasn't with your dad when he was brought in. And Keith was trying to help you; that's what he's here for."

"I don't need your help!" Stacey snapped. "Just bring in a doctor and leave me alone!"

Carolyn hurried behind the double doors as Stacey waited for what felt like hours. She could see Keith looking at her worriedly, and she wanted to scream at him. Finally, a doctor sprinted out of the room towards her.

"Miss McGill?" he questioned. "I'm Dr. Kendall."

_Great, he can't be more than a resident_, Stacey thought to herself.

"Miss McGill, your father was in a serious accident this morning. I don't know if you've seen the news or not, but your his building was bombed this morning."

"What…what are you trying to tell me?" She looked around and noticed what she had blocked out before: the waiting room was packed.

"All we know right now, Miss McGill, is that a truck carrying explosives was detonated in the parking lot of your father's building. We don't know what happened or how or why, but I can tell you this: your father died a hero. He probably would have survived if he had left the building immediately, but he went back in for his officemate."

"A hero?" Stacey couldn't even comprehend the brevity of the situation. She could just hear the words come out of the doctor's mouth and repeat them back to him.

"Yes. His friend Tim was struck by a falling piece of the ceiling after the explosion happened. Your dad was halfway down the stairs and went back for him. He managed to drag Tim out of the building, but not before a second series of explosions went off. Your father was severely burned, but he was able to get Tim out alright."

"How's Tim?"

"He has a broken back. We're not sure if he'll survive, either, to be completely honest. But your dad did a noble action, Miss McGill."

"Please, call me Stacey. Was anyone with him when he…you know…"

"I was here at the hospital with him. I tried to do everything I could, but it was already too late. I'll get you in touch with the paramedics who airlifted him over here."

"Did he say anything? Anything about me?"

"No, Stacey. He was unconscious. He died bravely and dignified, without any pain. I made sure that he was comfortable. I try to extend that courtesy to all of my patients who pass on."

Stacey surveyed the scene around her. Families were weeping, and the news was blaring non-stop covered about the bombing. How had she missed this? "Was this terrorist activity?" she questioned.

"Right now…we really don't know. Stacey, I hate to cut you off, but I have to get back to my patients. Hundreds of people in the building were affected. Please, take my card, and if you have any questions, please call me."

She took it numbly and tried to regain her grasp on reality. It was just too much to take in at once. She ambled slowly towards the desk to speak with Carolyn. "Is it okay if I go home now?" she asked softly. She barely noticed the tears that were beginning to drip off of her face.

"Honey, I hate to put you through this, but someone needs to identify the body. Can you do it, or should we call someone else?"

She couldn't. She absolutely couldn't. She couldn't look at her dad's body and identify it. That would be like admitting that this was real, like it wasn't a terrible dream. Her knees buckled as she slowly sank to the ground, praying quickly that she would wake up shortly.


	13. Chapter 13

_Author's note: Hi All! I had almost forgotten about this story…but I'm excited to work on it some more. I just completed grad school, so I should have much more time for fun things like BSC fanfic! Thanks for reading._

"Stacey…come on, honey, open your eyes. It's okay," a soothing male voice said.

"Dad?" she murmured, slowly opening her eyes. It had been a dream. It had to be. _What a relief_, she thought, _I'll never go out all night with Laine again. I'll be the perfect daughter, Daddy, I really will._

"No, it's Keith. We met in the lobby, remember?"

And then, it all came slowly back to her. The cab ride. The lobby. The overly sympathetic receptionist. Keith, the grief counselor. Her dad. Never seeing her dad again….

Stacey quickly shut her eyes again. "Go away. I don't need to see you."

"Stacey, the sooner you start to face reality, the faster you'll begin to heal."

She gritted her teeth. "Leave me alone right now. I mean it. Get out of here."

Keith slowly backed towards the door. "You've been admitted to a room, Stacey. Your blood sugar was through the roof. Stress, no doubt. Your mom's on her way up from Connecticut. I'm going to call in a doctor, okay?"

Stacey flopped over as easily as she could without removing her IV and jammed her pillow over her face. _I'll never see him again_, she thought as she drifted into a restless sleep.

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Claudia threw her bag down and dug into her fries, trying to scoop up every last bit of cheese. _I really, really need to talk to Kristy about running_, she thought as she felt the zipper on her pants strain. But at the moment, there was nothing she could do about it, so she washed her fries down with a Mountain Dew and topped it off with a Twinkie. _Thank God I'm not diabetic_, she thought as she looked around for Mary Anne.

She almost didn't recognize her as she sat down at the table; she was used to Mary Anne's mousy brown, limp hair. Instead, a bombshell was now sitting across from her. Mary Anne dug through her book bag, oblivious to the stares she was attracting. _I wonder how much longer her shyness will last?_ Claudia snarked to herself as Mary Anne looked up at winked at Alan Grey.

"Claude, thanks again for all of your help last night. You would not believe the reaction I've been getting today!"

"Of course," Claudia responded. "You look hot!" Indeed, Mary Anne had even upstaged Claude that day. Ever since her recent weight gain, Claude had felt less creative than usual. She usually wore black, trying to hide her late-night donut binges and ice cream breakfasts.

"So, are you coming to Kristy's party tomorrow?" Mary Anne asked, fiddling with her food. She wasn't particularly hungry; she was too excited from all of the attention.

"Didn't even know about it. I'm guessing that I'm not invited."

"Well, you should totally come. Kristy probably just forgot to invite you. Maybe she hasn't seen you yet today?" New look or not, Mary Anne still had that overly sensitive side.

"MA, it's okay. I really don't feel like going."

"Well, you can always crash. Or I'll just go for a bit and we can hang out afterwards. I just want to get out of my house for a bit."

"Out? Don't you ever want to stay in with Logan" Claude joked.

Claude noticed that Mary Anne paled a bit but didn't say anything. "No, it's the new me, always wanting to go out!" Mary Anne replied perkily.

_It's weird_, Claudia thought to herself. As she watched Mary Anne soak up all the attention around them, she knew that she should be jealous. But by now, she wasn't. She had too much on her mind, from Alan to Stacey, and she was even a bit excited for Mary Anne. _Let's make this work_, _Mary Anne. From now on, we'll be the most popular girls in this school_.

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Sharon unlocked the door, quietly slipping in. She knew that no one would be home, but she wanted to make sure that no one saw her. The truth was, she had lost her job over a month ago, but she was still keeping up the pretenses that she was working every day. Her boss had called her erratic, flighty, and irresponsible; she was fired shortly after forgetting to pick up an important client at the airport and leaving her rental car keys in the mailroom.

"Girls? Richard?" she called out, double-checking. No answer. She plopped down on the couch and opened a paperback that had been left on the table. Before she could get too into her novel, she caught a glimpse of a paper out of the corner of her eye.

_Dear Mom, Mary Ann, and Richard:_

_By the time you've found this, I've already left. Please don't try to come after me. Ever since I came back to Stoneybrook, I realized what an inconvenience that I have become. It's hard enough to make a marriage work without having to worry about stepkids as well. I'm going to stay with a friend, and I'll give you a call to let you know I'm okay. Mary Anne, I'm sorry for all the problems I have caused. Please just let me go for a while, and I'll call you soon._

_Love,_

_Dawn_

Sharon whirled around the room, panicked. How could Dawn leave her again, so soon? Why was she always leaving? She reached for the phone, frantically dialing Richard at the office. Of course, he was in a meeting. She called Mary Anne's cell phone, but it just rang, signaling that she was avoiding her calls. Sharon began to dial the police, but something stopped her. She place the receiver down and grabbed Dawn's note, frantically shredding it.

_If I get rid of this, no one will know what's wrong. I'll just say Dawn had to go back to California._ Picking up the crumbled pieces, she tossed them in the garbage and made sure to put the bag outside in the yard.

_If Dawn doesn't want to be around anymore, fine. At least Mary Anne will never leave me_. She smiled to herself, making sure that she would hold onto her remaining daughter forever.

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On Saturday morning, Kristy woke up early to squeeze in a run. Shannon had slept over the night before, and she and Sam had kept Kristy up all night. Still, Kristy felt energized and vigorous as she lapped around the neighborhood, barely breaking a sweat.

Back at home, she found Sam sprawled out in his normal chair at the table, eating an omelet. "Where's Shannon?"

"She left. She had to clean a park or something," Sam mumbled, a bit of egg in his stubble.

"Gotcha. So what do you need me to do around here?" Kristy asked.

"Eh…nothing really. Maybe just clean one of the bathrooms. This place is pretty clean."

"Anything I can get from the store? Food, snacks, etc.?"

"Nah, I think Shannon's going to make a food run. Just sit back and relax."

_Relax_, mused Kristy. _Not something I do a lot_. She poured a glass of milk and stood at the counter making toast. Sam put his plate in the dishwasher and affectionately rubbed her head. "You're a good kid, you know that?" Sam asked.

Stunned, Kristy smiled to herself as Sam left the room. She wasn't used to this sort of display of affection from him, but she liked it. Maybe Sam had changed for the better.

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All morning, Mallory had been avoiding Jessi's calls. Jessi had been cast as Clara in _The Nutcracker_, and she was begging Mal to go. But Mal still felt awkward around Jessi, and besides, she couldn't jam up her phone line in case a publisher from New York called. Jessi would have to wait.

Mal dug through her closet, trying to find something to wear. She didn't own any labels like Stacey, but she thought that she had some great choices nonetheless. Today, she was stuck between her Blossom hat and stirrup pants or her Misty of Chincoteague sweatshirt with her jeans from the day before. She had washed them especially for the party, especially after Shannon had complimented her on them the day before.

_Ah, Shannon_, Mal thought to herself. _Now that's who I should have practiced kissing on_. She couldn't believe her luck when she heard about the party at Kristy's tonight. Of course, it must have slipped Shannon's mind to mention it to Mal on the way to school the day before. As soon as she had woken up, Mal had left three messages on Shannon's voice mail to ask if she could bring anything to the party. So far, she hadn't heard anything back, but she figured that Shannon was just being a good friend and didn't want to bother Mallory so early in the morning.

Mal did a little twirl in front of her mirror, admiring her frizzed-out curls in the mirror. She had been reading _Vogue_ since the night before, and she really admired the high-fashion photo shoots. Apparently, fluffy hair was in, according to the Gucci shoot. Well, Mal had plenty of big hair, and with a little work, she had teased it into a nest of curls. She knew she looked just like the photo spread.

_Tonight is going to be the best night of my life. I get to hang out with my friends, and maybe I'll even become best friends with Shannon Kilbourne. Her boyfriend is so hot. Maybe he'd be into me, and we can all hang out. _

What Mal didn't realize what that she should have just stayed home. But at this point, she was too enticed by the idea of new friendships and the chance to manipulate others that she knew she had to get in, however she possible could. _Best night of my life_, she reminded herself as she sat down to practice her makeup.


	14. Chapter 14

Author's Note: Thanks, all, for the great comments! Please continue with any thoughts/criticism that you have. Also, thank you for your patience with my slow updates. :-) More to come, I promise.

The party was already in full swing by the time Mary Anne and Claudia arrived at the Brewer-Thomas mansion. Mary Anne had shown up at Claud's door, practically begging her to tag along that night. Claud had sighed, pushed aside her half-eaten Mallomars, and threw together a sloppy outfit for the occasion. From Janine's closet, she grabbed a short kilt, then threw on a tie-dyed tee shirt that reminded her of the sunset. She belted the shirt and grabbed a cardigan, tying it lightly around her shoulders. She felt her outfit was toned down, yet she didn't want to stand out as a party crasher.

Mary Anne, on the other hand, was screaming for attention. She had fussed with her hair all afternoon, so it flipped slightly askew around her shoulders; Dawn would have called it California Casual if she didn't realize how much time MA had spent on it. She had on the red dress that her father had purchased for her after her makeover earlier that year (perhaps it had been a few years ago...it was just so hard to keep track of time in Stoneybrook!), yet had altered it slightly. She had taken the hem up a good few inches and paired it with a pair of Sharon's pilfered heels.

As a matter of fact, Mary Anne hadn't seen Sharon that afternoon. She had noted a brief note left on the scratched wooden table that only read, "Out for a bit! Everything's fine! XOXO!" Had it been any other day, MA would have been concerned by the excessive use of exclamation points (after all, she was the former BSC secretary and knew all about the proper use of grammar and punctuation). However, since it was Sharon, MA believed that it was better to let Sharon come and go as she pleased...as long as she didn't run into her.

"Let's go!" Mary Anne called to Claud, who was still trying to squeeze into Janine's tiny skirt. "Maybe I should invest in some body shapers," she thought to herself. Grumbling, she quickly drew on a vague leopard patterned eye shadow, grimacing when she accidentally poked herself in the eye with her eyeliner. "This is not my day," she thought to herself.

The girls headed to the party after begging Janine to drop them off on her way to the library. "I don't know why you waste your time with the minions, Claud," Janine murmured. "You could be spending tonight preparing for your Algebra exam."

The girls ignored Janine and whispered to each other, occasionally giggling. As they arrived at the house, they were pleased to see a gathering of cars outside, along with the faint strains of music from inside. Mary Anne grabbed Claud's hand. "Let's go inside," she said, pulling her lightly.

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Kristy couldn't believe how well things were going thus far. Nothing had been broken, no one had puked in the pool, and no one had ventured upstairs into the bedrooms. Still, it seemed like everyone was having a great time. Kristy had already drunk two beers and was well on her way to a third when she saw Claud and Mary Anne enter. She quickly chugged her drinks, readjusted her baseball cap, and shuffled over.

"Hello, members of the Babysitter's Club!" she giggled. Claud and Mary Anne exchanged glances, not sure where this was going.

"Kristy, are you drinking?" Mary Anne asked, incredulous. New look or not, she was still the same Mary Anne.

"Of course. This is a party, isn't it? Come on, let's have drinks. Sam and Shannon are in the kitchen, so we'll have something."

Claud backed away slightly, not sure if she should follow. Getting Kristy drunk at her own house seemed like a bad idea, especially if she was supposed to be in control. However, she was so grateful to not be kicked up that she went along.

Shannon and Sam were laced around each other in the kitchen, laughing at a private joke. "You should have seen what she was wearing! Oh, the jeans -" she stopped as she saw Kristy, Claud, and Mary Anne enter the room. "Hey..." she trailed off.

"Ladies, allow me to get you a drink," Sam cut in, charming as ever. He began mixing bottles of whatever was nearest to him and smiled. "Drink up."

Kristy noticed Sam's eyes. Something wasn't quite right. But it wasn't time to think about that right now. Besides, Shannon was with him. So instead, she handed the girls their drinks. "Let's do this."

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Mallory was skulking quietly outside of the mansion, trying to figure out if she should ring the doorbell or just walk in. She figured her best bet was either to walk inside with a group of kids or to crawl through one of the windows. She ducked down, clearing a slight break in the carefully manicured bushes. This wasn't kind of attention that she wanted to attract.

Her chance came a few moments later as a group of kids entered and left the door open behind them. Mal crept in stealthily, trying to look like she had just been outside for a smoke break. She smiled politely at all the kids around her, vague faces from when she had student taught in the 8th grade. She headed for the kitchen, slipping past Kristy, whose overly animated actions led Mal to believe she had been drinking. "What would the parents think?" she thought callously, and vowed to later write about that incident.

There they stood, Sam and Shannon. Mal smiled and rushed to shake both of their hands. "Fancy seeing you here!" she chortled.

Shannon rolled her eyes lightly at Sam, who gave her a look of impatience. "Let's go outside for bit," he pleaded.

"No, Sam, you promised."

"Come on, just this once. No one will ever even know."

"Sam, no. You're done with all that, remember? I'm not letting you do this to yourself." Her eyes welled up, and she turned away.

"Shannon, come on. You know I have this under control. It's not a big deal. Let's just step out for a minute - "

"No. I'm leaving. Now you can leave with me and come to my house, or you can choose to stay and ruin everything you've worked so hard to overcome. I'm not staying to see this. I can't."

"Baby, you drive a hard bargain," Sam said, but his hand was already fingering a small baggy in his pocket. "Last time, I promise."

Shannon shook her head, disgusted. "I'm going home. Don't call me." She stormed out the door, slamming it behind her.

"Well, now that she's gone," Sam said, sneering, "why don't you come outside with me?" Mal was surprised, but this opportunity was too good to pass up.

"It's all for my book," she thought as she followed Sam out the door.


	15. Chapter 15

An incessant beeping had kept Stacey up all night, making it hard for her to forget where she was. She had been placed under a light sedation, which was supposed to keep her under for the night. However, she had tossed and turned and at one point had woken up screaming. She opened her eyes from time to time, scanning the room to see if anyone was there. She half-expected to see her mother, or even Laine, but she was alone again.

"Hey, Sleepyhead," a strong male voice called out. Stacey rubbed her eyes, almost pulling out the IV still taped inside her wrist. She sighed to herself as she recognized Keith, the grief counselor.

"Get out. I told you before, I'm not speaking with you."

"Belligerence is good. You're progressing nicely through Kubler-Ross's stages of death and dying."

"Shuuuuut up," Stacey groaned. "Please, let me be alone with my thoughts."

"Well, I would, but I'm here to let you know that you're being released this afternoon. Your mom is outside doing all the paperwork."

"What time is it?"

"About nine at night. Time to go home and get some rest. Plus, you're meeting with me tomorrow morning."

"I'm doing no such thing."

"Sorry, but your mom made you an appointment. The best way to begin dealing with grief is to sit down and talk it through. I'm not trying to be a hardass here, but you need to meet with me for a while."

He strode towards the door and quickly doubled back, holding his hand out to Stacey. She refused to shake it. "See you tomorrow," he said, striding out.

Stacey felt her stomach churn as she rolled over in bed. She was not ready for this quite yet.

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"So, you've been around here before, right Melanie?" Sam slurred.

"It's Mallory," she corrected him, smoothing out her shirt. Sam had put his arm around her shoulders, and she felt warm and uncomfortable. Her hair was frizzing in a giant poof, and she was itching to write these events down in her notebook. Still, she kept her cool.

"Join me," Sam offered, gesturing towards the small bag that he had laid out on a patio table. Mal looked nervously towards the door, hoping foolishly that someone would come outside. But the party was carrying on indoors, rather loudly, and Mal was sure that no one knew she was outside with Sam.

"I couldn't," Mal said.

"I know who you are. You're Kristy's friend, right? I think she said you wanted to be a writer."

"I do, but..."

"This will open your mind so much, Mallory. Give it a shot, you'll see."

Mal didn't buy the argument, but her curiosity was getting the best of her. If she didn't indulge, she would lose Sam's confidence. "Well, Shannon didn't seem too happy with you, and she's my friend."

"She's not your friend. You don't have any friends here."

"Sure I do...the BSC, Shannon, and I know a lot of people inside."

"Oh, Mallory. If you could have heard the things that they have been saying about you for years. Let me be your friend tonight," he leered at her.

Mallory was infuriated. The BSC, speaking badly of her? They'd get theirs. She grabbed the baggie from Sam's hand and quickly began to pour the powder out.

Sam smiled at her. "Hello, Mallory."

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Kristy was having a great time with Claudia and Mary Anne. They'd sat side by side, gossiping, for most of the evening. Mary Anne's new look had been attracting attention all night, and the girls had had to redirect hordes of guys who stopped by to say hello. However, as Alan approached Claudia, she stood, whispered quietly in his ear, and snuck out of the room with him.

"What's going on there?" Kristy asked, her mouth full of chips. She quickly washed them down with beer and smiled at Mary Anne.

"Hmm...no idea."

"I'm glad your here," Kristy slurred. "It's like the old days. I almost wish Dawn was here, and Jessi, and everyone else. Maybe we could have a meeting."

"Oh honey, that would be great, but you know that's not going to happen. Besides, don't you like things better this way? You have free time, and friends, and you can enjoy the full high school experience."

Kristy pushed her beer towards Mary Anne, who refused. She may have changed her look, but she wasn't about to begin drinking. "Mary Anne, I miss you already. I don't want you to go away."

"Kristy, I'm not going anywhere," Mary Anne comforted her, stroking her hair.

Kristy smiled at the kind gesture. This was so like Mary Anne, always there for her. She was about to say something, when a rush of vomit filled her throat. She turned away quickly, vomiting quietly into a large planter. "Oops," she said, wiping her mouth.

Mary Anne sighed and helped her up. "Let's go get you cleaned up." She realized that overall, this wasn't much different than a BSC meeting.

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Janine drove slowly towards the library, making sure to make a careful three-point turn away from the Brewer-Thomas house. She was a diligent driver, always making sure to signal for turns and pay attention to any possible accidents. Using basic physics, she occasionally calculated the damage that would occur if two cars crashed. She could do the math, but stopped before imagining any harm done to people.

The lights cut out slightly as Janine turned the corner. She blinked, then considered pulling over to clean her glasses. However, there was no one on the road, and Janine quickly calculated her odds of getting into an accident. "Slim to none," she told herself as she pulled her glasses off and cleaned them quickly.

She didn't calculate the odds of one Stoneybrook resident spending most of her afternoon at the bar. She didn't count how many margaritas one might have over the course of three hours, nor how these drinks interfered with the anti-anxiety medications this patient was already on. As Janine drove the speed limit, she didn't even see the other car barrel around the corner, nearly side swiping a parked car. Nor did she feel the other vehicle striking her car, inevitably breaking her glasses anyway. She slumped over the steering wheel, unconscious, as the other car sped away.

In the other car, Sharon laughed shakily and continued to drive. She narrowly avoided another car and headed home. "I can't wait to see my girls," she thought to herself.

These odds, of course, were ones that Janine never could have calculated.


End file.
